


Worth Running To

by TurnUps



Series: Running To and Away [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: (why do so many of my fics have that now?), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Drinking, Emotional Abuse, Gambling, M/M, Physical Abuse, Pining, Pirate things, Pirates, Pirates AU, Regency Romance, and also yuffie and leon, donald and goofy are actual animals, like good old 18th century tiny touches and clever flirting, lots of tender pining, maleficent raised riku, mentioned - Freeform, now heres the serious tags, past bullying, probably the most slowburn thing ive ever written but thats not saying much, slight gore, slowburn, sora and riku adopt namine as their little sister, sora has been adopted by terra and aqua, the king is also an actual animal, though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 132,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22375984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurnUps/pseuds/TurnUps
Summary: Sora had spotted the boy as soon as he came in. It wasn’t the silver hair or the piercing blue-green eyes that sparkled like the sea. And it wasn’t the sheer size of his arms.It was the way he had wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol that sat over the whole tavern like a fog. The way he stood – upright and stiff, moving out of everyone’s way without being shoved. Both showed that he didn’t belong here – he didn’t even look old enough to be let into a pub.Not that Sora was either, but Sora had earnt his right to sit here at the tavern with men three times his weight with a bottle of rum and a sign that read ‘crew wanted.’He’d watched the boy lurk around the edges of the pub, never making eye contact with anyone for more than a moment. His hands were tight on the neck of his cloak in an almost comic way of hiding his face from everyone. On the run, Sora thought. He’d seen that expression before and it always made his stomach twinge. To have something to run from – that was the dream.*Pirate AU - Sora is looking for a crew, Riku is looking to be as far away from England as possible. They find kinship in one another.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Running To and Away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166804
Comments: 393
Kudos: 370





	1. The Highwind

The Highwind

Sora had spotted the boy as soon as he came in. It wasn’t the hair – it looked almost white in the lamplight, but it was silver – what boy his age had silver hair? Or the piercing blue-green eyes that sparkled like the sea. And it wasn’t the sheer size of his arms, though they were comparable to an oarsman.

It was the way he had wrinkled his nose at the heady smell of alcohol that sat over the whole tavern like a fog. The way he stood – upright and stiff, moving out of everyone’s way without being shoved. Both showed that he didn’t belong here – he didn’t even look old enough to be let into a pub.

Not that Sora was either, but Sora had hardly had what most folks would call a proper upbringing. He’d earnt his right to sit here at the tavern with men three times his weight with a bottle of rum and a sign that read ‘crew wanted.’ In fact, it was spelt ‘krew wanted,’ and he suspected he’d written the ‘d’ backwards, but he figured enough people would get the point.

This boy was clearly a posh one. He’d watched the boy lurk around the edges of the pub, never making eye contact with anyone for more than a moment. His hands were tight on the neck of his cloak in an almost comic way of hiding his face from everyone. On the run, Sora thought. He’d seen that expression before and it always made his stomach twinge. To have something to run from – that was the dream.

So, he’d watched the boy, because he was more entertaining than watching men arm wrestle, or try to flirt with the maid behind the bar. (Though more often than not she gave them a right hook, and that was always worth seeing.)

And then the boy’s eyes skimmed over him. Skimmed back. He looked – actually looked at Sora for more than a second, where most of the other men would curl their lip or raise their eyebrow. Sora could feel his lips curved upwards in a smile.

The boy didn’t smile back, but he did fight his way through the crowd and over to Sora’s table in the corner. His eyes dropped down to the wax paper sign propped up between two empty tankards.

“You’re looking for a crew?” he asked, in the breathless tone of someone needing a quick getaway. Sora stopped himself from grinning – he hadn’t even made an effort to disguise his posh voice.

“That’s what the sign says.” Sora replied. He couldn’t resist making his grin just a little more lopsided – couldn’t resist a wink, because now that the boy had come over, he could see his face was just as pretty as his hair.

The boy wet his lips. Glanced away. Glanced back with a determined face – like he was determined to ignore that wink. “How soon do you set sail?”

“If you join up, we can get going straight away.”

The boy nodded and slid into the booth next to him. That made Sora pause. The kid may have been asking for it – he practically screamed ‘I’m rich and desperate, scam me,’ but he wasn’t about to take advantage of him.

“Understand, I can’t pay you nothing. Not until we find treasure,” he said. The boy should have been asking more questions before he signed up for a voyage to who knew where. Running – desperation – Sora wondered what that felt like. To have something worth running away from.

“That’s fine.” The boy nodded out at the rest of the pub. “Which one is yours?”

“Eh?”

“Which one is your crew?” the boy repeated.

“Here,” Sora gestured at the booth, still smiling, like it was completely normal. He was wondering how long it would be before they got to this.

The boy blinked at him. He looked from him, to Donald, to Goofy, and back at Sora. His features twisted into something between anger and disgust.

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Sora said. “This is my crew, and you’d never hope to sail with finer men.”

“ _Men_?” the boy repeated, incredulously. “They’re not _men_!”

Some of the burlier guys and gals frowned over at them for the noise, but once they saw Sora, they rolled their eyes and turned back to their conversation.

Sora frowned, but he knew it was more of a pout. “And how many sea voyages have _you_ been on?”

The boy blinked. “Well, none.”

“Exactly. These two have been on more adventures than you, and that makes them men of the sea in my book.”

“You should learn to read that book,” the boy said scathingly. “You can’t bring a _duck_ and a – a –“

“Goofy’s a dog,” Sora said. He scratched Goofy behind a scruffy ear and Goofy panted appreciatively.

“I’ve never seen a dog like that.”

“That’s because he’s an old sea dog.” It was simple logic, really. He couldn’t understand everyone’s confusion at Goofy.

“And you think you can sail a boat between the two of us, a dog and a _duck?”_ The boy frowned at him, and put his hands on the table, pushing himself upwards.

Sora turned to Goofy so that the boy couldn’t see Sora’s scowl. He had known the boy would react that way – everyone always did, but he had really been hoping that this time would be different. He had _liked_ this one – had liked that he was young and on the run. That he wanted to be anywhere but here, because Sora was like that too. He _needed_ to be anywhere but here – to find something worth running from or worth running too. And this kid might have been posh, but he was pretty and easily flustered and Sora was already imagining getting to know him more. Could he be heartbroken over a five-minute encounter?

Goofy seemed to sense his annoyance. The huge wolfhound – well wolfhound cross, but Sora didn’t know crossed with _what_ – gave his cheek a snuffle. He sneezed against him and Sora couldn’t help it – he laughed, hooking an arm around Goofy’s neck and scratching his huge head with both hands. Donald shuffled his feathers, looking as reproachful as a duck could, before sticking his beak in the air and pretending that he hadn’t seen this display of affection. It only made Sora’s grin widen.

The boy was still standing at the table.

Sora looked up and saw him staring at him, slightly open mouthed. His green eyes glinted in the dim light of the pub. There were only a few hanging lanterns, casting a golden, flickering light over them and casting dark shadows over the boy’s pale skin. When their eyes met, he shut his mouth and stared at the alcohol puddled floor, his cheeks tinged pink. It gave Sora an inkling of what the boy was running from – if he hadn’t been able to guess anyway.

“My ship isn’t very big. Yet,” Sora said. He _wanted_ this one to come with them. “We could manage it easy. And I’m the only one here setting sail tomorrow morning. Everyone else here knows there’ll be a storm this week – they want to wait it out.”

Slowly, the boy eased himself back into the booth. He stared at the grubby floor for a long time, before he looked up at Sora. His eyes caught the lamplight again, in just the right way, and Sora could see it then. Those eyes held the sparkle of the sea in them and persuaded his breath to stay stuck in his throat.

“You’re going tomorrow?” he asked, quietly.

Sora nodded. He put his other arm around Goofy, leaning on the dog.

“Even though there’s going to be a storm?”

He couldn’t trust this boy with the whole truth. Not yet. So he simply omitted some parts. “A huge one. It sounds like a good adventure.”

The boy shook his head. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” Sora said, feeling his smile return. “But you’re coming with me.”

“I never said that.” The boy looked around the pub a final time. Looking for other options and met only with scowls from men twice the size of him.

Sora grinned. “But you are.”

The boy sighed. He gave a final, _final_ glance around the pub only to see a collection of thugs drinking themselves sick, then nodded. Sora beamed at him. He was positively glowing. Yes, he _liked_ this one – this one he could have a real adventure with.

“Sora,” he said, finally untangling himself from Goofy, and sticking his hand out across the table. “Captain Sora.”

“Captain of a small boat, a dog and a duck.”

“And you.”

The boy’s hand lingered just a second longer than it should have. He had a firm grip, though his skin was smooth. Not used to a day’s work.

“I’m Riku.” He was smiling – a small, gentle smile that was a good fit on his face.

There was a loud and indignant quack. Goofy had the habit of sniffing Donald’s tail feathers, and hadn’t _quite_ got the message that it was unwanted attention. Donald had turned and was snapping at the huge dog with a bright orange beak.

“Hey – hey, you two –“ Sora pulled Goofy away, trying to calm Donald down with an outstretched hand. It was a mistake – that duck had an unstoppable temper, and he bit at Sora’s fingers too.

He cursed and put his attacked appendages into his mouth.

But then he heard laughter.

He looked up to see Riku, a hand clasped over his mouth to muffle the noise, laughing.

It brought the grin back to his face. He was laughing too, and yes –

Sora knew this was going to be an adventure.

*

Riku stared at the boy sat across from him. The boy who had definitely made a conscious effort to make his fingertips feel as much of Riku’s palm as possible before he pulled away. His hands were rough and firm – they didn’t match the softness that was the rest of him. This boy with skin that just glowed brown – like he had absorbed the sun and was just beaming it out of him. This boy with hair that stuck up in a thousand different directions and a crooked smile and the _bluest_ eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes like a cloudless sky. Maybe bluer than that.

Sora. Captain Sora.

He was wrestling his beast of a dog further into the booth so that he could plant himself between it and the duck. Riku had never seen a dog like that – lanky and black and shaggy, with a long, almost crooked snout. Its eyes were so blank – Riku could almost believe that it was once intelligent but had given up all of its wisdom to save humanity. Almost.

The duck was a lot more normal looking – a plain white mallard, with beady eyes. It was an angry little thing.

How was this trio even allowed in here?

Sora was watching him, one hand still buried in Goofy’s fur. His head was tilted to the side and his mouth was slightly open – Riku could see a gleam of white teeth.

“So, Riku,” Sora said. He let the name drip from his tongue like it was made of honey. “Why are you in such a hurry to get away?”

His gut clenched and his heart jerked in his chest like it was trying to jump overboard. But he had always had a knack for cards – hopefully he had a half-decent poker face to match.

“I’m not,” he lied. He had to be out of here, tomorrow. That was all that mattered.

Sora’s head tilted further, like he was trying to copy Goofy. His crooked smile lifted up again. Was it a requirement of being a pirate to have a crooked grin?

“I know the look of a boy on the run.”

“And - are you?” Riku asked.

And Sora laughed. Laughter seemed to come as easily as breathing to him. It was a careless sound.

“Me? Never?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be?” Riku leant across the table, let his long hair fall forward like a curtain. He had lost the ribbon tying it back before he had even step foot in here, but there were men with longer hair milling around. “Isn’t piracy supposed to be illegal?”

Sora leant forward too, blue eyes glittering. “Only if you get caught.”

That made Riku’s mouth twitch. He leant back to hide it – to hide his clothes.

“Most people don’t want to sail right into a storm,” Sora continued. “Not unless they’re in a hurry to escape something.”

He’d been too obvious. He knew he had, and now he’d been caught. He sat there, staring at Sora and trying to think of an excuse. Tried to think of anything but the truth, but this boy wouldn’t believe any of them. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst this people – none of them would believe Riku if he said he was a thief or a murderer.

“You don’t have to give me all the details. Not if you don’t want to.” Sora said. He had the tone of someone trying to sooth a startled horse. Donald ruffled his feathers next to him, squatting down, and Sora’s fingers skimmed over his folded feathers. The duck gave an appreciative quack and half closed its eyes. “But I need to know if you can’t stick around England.”

“No. I can’t.”

Sora nodded.

Goofy was taking an interest in Riku now, leaning his long neck around the table and snorting through his huge black nose at him. He hadn’t much experience with dogs, so he awkwardly patted Goofy’s head in the hopes it would appease him and make him turn away.

It only encouraged him. He sniffed Riku’s palm and then pressed his cold nose against it. Riku let him stay there, turning back to the boy.

“Why are _you_ sailing into a storm?”

Sora glanced around at the noisy tavern. Everyone seemed caught up in their own tiny bubbles – not even looking at them. Then he leant his head forward and lowered his voice.

“They say there’s treasure in the eye of a storm.” And at Riku’s blank look, he continued. “Blessed treasure – with heavenly power – that can perform miracles.”

It sounded like a load of old rubbish to Riku. The kind of things young boys tell each other about a lump at the end of the garden that turns out to be the stump of a rose bush. But Sora’s eyes were shining. Well – he certainly didn’t act his age. There was no way he was old enough to be in here either, and he looked too baby faced to be on his own. Maybe he was just a boy playing at being a Captain. Maybe his parents would come along and Riku would be out of a ship.

“I don’t suppose anyone knows what this treasure is?”

Sora shrugged. He was still bright and eager. “Some say a staff, some say a box – all of the stories differ. But the miracles part is true.”

“And, of course, there’s the glory that comes along with finding it.” It was obvious to Riku that the main reward was reputation. Reputation and honour, the two most important things to a man, according to his mother. His mother was always right.

Sora’s gaze drew distant then. Seemed to fix on something behind Riku.

Then he took a breath. “Something like that.”

He had a habit of dropping his ‘t’s and making Riku painfully aware of every one he pronounced. Painfully aware of just how much he didn’t fit in here.

Then Sora was back – the same bubbly grinning boy that he had been thirty seconds ago. No, not boy. Pirate. This boy was a pirate, even if he didn’t look like one.

"We’ll sleep on my ship tonight, aye?"

Riku raised an eyebrow. "Is it just a canoe with a flagpole sticking out of it?"

It was easy to tease him, actually. It was easy to talk to this boy. He had never felt like that. There had never been anyone he felt this at ease with. And this was a boy he had known for five minutes. A pirate he had known for five minutes.

A pirate who was pouting at him – blowing his cheeks out and pursing his lips. It was utterly childish, and yet Riku could feel his breath hitching at the sight.

"My ship is a beauty,” Sora said. “A lady of the sea."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"What are you going to give me when you're wrong, Riii-kuuu?" Sora drew out the name, leaning forwards again and resting his cheek in his hand. Impossibly blue eyes studied Riku’s face, and smiled at what they saw there.

"I - I don't have any money on me." It was true. If he didn’t have any money, he couldn’t be robbed of it.

The pout deepened. "What about a favour, then?"

Riku's heart dropped. "A favour?"

That was the one thing Sora seemed oblivious to. He pointed at Riku, still grinning from ear to ear. "If you lose, you have to swab the deck for a week!"

The duck quacked loudly, and Sora turned to it.

"I am _not_ just saying that because I don't want to!"

The duck quacked indignantly again, giving another snap at Sora’s fingers.

Riku raised an eyebrow. "You...can talk to them?"

"Well, no.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leant back against the booth. “But it makes things more interesting that way.”

It was Riku’s turn to lean forward, examining the boy for red-rimmed eyes and slurred speech. “And you’re _sure_ you’re not drunk.”

“Can’t afford it.” At Sora’s words, Goofy sneezed, abandoning Riku’s limp hand to poke at Sora’s side. “Well, apart from this one. But that’s the only one I had, I swear.” Goofy’s nose poked him again. “And, we have a bottle of brandy eft, but that’s for a special occasion.”

“Like finding treasure?” Riku guessed.

“Oh, aye.” It seemed like Sora, the duck and the dog were looking him up and down as one. “Aye, you’ll fit in just fine.”

Heat crawled up his neck and cheeks and he looked away. There was a moment of silence, and then he couldn’t resist it – he looked back at Sora. The pirate was staring at him again – seeming to take in every detail as if they would never see each other again.

The moment dragged on and Riku’s heart began racing. He needed to break this – think of something to say – one of them had to say something – they couldn’t just _stare_ like this. In public.

Sora’s hands slammed down on the table. The duck squawked indignantly, ruffling its feathers, and Goofy’s ears went back.

“Right – let’s head off. Big day tomorrow!” Sora scooped a still protesting Donald up in one hand and tugged Goofy down from the booth by his collar with the other.

Riku followed, worming his way around people covered in grime, blood, and beer, until they were out in the night air.

Bristol looked beautiful at night. It was still Summer, and the night sky was dark blue, speckled with stars. The streetlamps had been lit casting bright yellow against blue so that the wet flagstones glowed. The air was warm, but not humid, and the seagulls cawed to each other from the tops of the buildings.

The river lapped at the hulls of the ships as they passed; they were all lined up like children waiting to go into assembly. Huge things with spidery masts and vast hulls watched them as they walked by, their boots tapping loudly against the stones.

Sora stopped in front of a ship, tugging a piece of wood he’d kept on the side of the dock and flopping it across to it. It wobbled alarmingly and creaked in protest when he stood on it.

Riku looked up, and realised that he would be swabbing the deck for a good week. It was a fine ship – with two tall masts and a sizeable deck. It was painted a bright red, rimmed with gold, which made it very handsome indeed. This was a Brig – and he couldn’t believe that the two of them would be able to sail it on their own.

“Are you coming?” Sora called. He was hopping down onto the deck, letting Donald go as he did. Goofy was plodding up the makeshift gangplank as though this was all normal.

Riku paused. Was he? He didn’t know this boy. This was a stupid decision. It was a really, really stupid thing to do. To go sailing into the eye of a storm on a huge ship with a mad boy, a duck and a dog.

But he’d have to wait a week otherwise. And he was no fool – he knew that not a lot of crews would want a sixteen-year-old who’d never worked a day in his life. He was useless to anyone else. This might be his only chance to get away.

And he had to get away. Now. No matter what. No matter if this was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Maybe he needed to be a bit stupid. His mother wouldn’t have approved – which only confirmed that he was doing the right thing.

“I’ll hold it for you if you’re scared.” Sora’s teeth glinted in the moonlight.

“I’m not scared.” It was as much for himself as it was for Sora.

Riku stepped onto the gangplank. It creaked and groaned at every move he made, and he took large, leaping steps to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Then he was standing on the deck. The deck of a swaying ship, with water lapping at the sides. There was the sudden urge to laugh. This was happening. He was doing this. Riku was running away.

Sora grunted as he pulled the gangplank up behind them, cutting them off securely from the rest of the dock.

“Is there something you’d like to say about my Highwind?” He wiped dirt from his hands onto tight breeches. Riku tore his gaze away, back at the stars.

"I've seen bigger," Riku shrugged.

Sora scoffed. "Like you've ever been on another - your legs are wobbling like a jellyfish."

Riku put a hand on the railing to steady himself, concentrating on making his legs stop shaking.

"Don't worry, you'll get your sea legs as you're cleaning my deck for me." Sora was already treading across the boards as though it was simple to the back of the ship.

This was a very bad idea, Riku decided. Why had be ever thought that it was a good idea to be on a ship? He'd never been on one before and he couldn't even stand on one when it was safely docked.

Goofy nudged past him, and Donald was fluttering after Sora, so he followed the two animals. It took him twice as long to get over to the cabin door. An empty lantern hung by the door. The wick in the candle inside had been swallowed by the wax.

"There's enough room for us both in here," Sora's voice called from inside, echoing like he was already deep in the belly of the ship.

Riku stepped in just as a match fizzed to life. There was a collection of tall candles sat on a scrubbed wooden table, surrounded by torn maps and a broken compass. Two sorry-looking chairs flanked it, trembling in the middle of the room. There was a wide window at one end, letting the starlight drift through the glass. Clothes fell out of a large trunk sat under the window, and were scattered around the floor with books and maps. There were two hammocks - one hung either side of the room. The one on the left had two large lumps of hay underneath it - which Donald and Goofy settled themselves into without question.

Two hammocks. If Sora hadn't been expecting company - he had wanted it.

"There's not much point in you sleeping down in the hold all by yourself," Sora said, sitting on the left hammock and making it swing alarmingly. He was already kicking his boots off by the heel, stretching his arms up and yawning. "You don't mind, do you?"

Riku did mind. He minded very much. He was used to sharing a room - but not with a pirate, a dog and a duck. The situation was bizarre, and this boy was pretty, and he should just leave. He should forget about all of this and just go home.

But then he thought of returning to his mother. He thought of returning for the Summer break. July and August.

It was unthinkable.

Riku sat down on the hammock and started untying his own boot laces.

He looked up again to see Sora staring at him, from over the candle. It made his hair and eyelashes look inky black, and his skin glow gold like an apparition.

"You sure about this?"

Riku took a breath. There was no turning back now. "Yes."

"Aye." For just a moment, Sora paused. Then he grinned, and winked, and said, "goodnight."

The candle was blown out, leaving them in silvery darkness.

Riku lay back in the hammock, his heart racing out of his chest as he heard Sora pad back to his own hammock and get in. The smell of smoke was drifting in the air, like a blown-out birthday candle. That _wink._ That crooked smile. Riku was playing with fire. He should have chosen a large crew, with people who wouldn’t look twice at him, who were beaten and bloodied, so they looked more like oddly shaped vegetables than people. Not the pretty boy who talked to his pets and winked at Riku. It was just asking for trouble.

Now that he lay down, covering himself over as best as he could with his cloak and the musty blanket left there, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He had really done it – he had ran. And he wasn’t going back. He actually _dared_ to escape. And was playing with fire as soon as he did.

But this was better than a crew of mean, twisted people. Surely it would be. They would look for him on the big ships, not a small brig sailed by a boy no one seemed to look twice at. This was anonymity. He would just have to ignore Sora’s – everything.

The barely formed plan in his mind lulled him into a half-sleep. The hammock rocked gently with the lull of the river and it was absurdly comforting. Sora’s heavy breathing on the other side of the cabin was calming too, in a way.

Then he felt something small jump in the hammock with him.

He froze. Tiny feet were scurrying up him – catching him in the sensitive areas of his stomach. Something small, with a long tail.

“Sora,” he hissed. “ _Sora!”_

“Mmm?” He heard Sora shuffle in his hammock, and yawn loudly.

“There’s a rat.”

“What?”

“A rat. There’s a rat in my hammock. Aren’t they only supposed to be in the bilge?”

“Only the lowliest rats. The peasant rats. And there _are_ no rats in my bilge, thank you very much,” Sora grumbled, and then there was another fizz as he lit a match. He stepped closer to Riku and he gritted his teeth as he looked down at the small creature on his chest. “Oh, it’s just the King.”

Riku blinked at the mouse. It sat on him comfortably, tail curled around it like a tiny pink sausage. Its feet were the same pink. The rest of it was as black as soot – including its gleaming eyes.

“The King?” he repeated. He hoped his voice didn’t sound like a squeak – it wasn’t like he was a lady who had found a mouse in her teacup.

“King Mickey.” Sora scratched the mouse behind a large, papery ear and it squeaked appreciatively. “He must have taken a liking to you.”

The mouse was already curling up on Riku’s chest – just over his heart. It would have been easy to move – to sit up and push the tiny creature off of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Its heart was over his heart, thrumming away at one hundred times faster than his.

“He’s a mouse, not a rat,” Sora said, wiggling the match in the air to extinguish it.

“That’s okay then,” Riku muttered.

Sora yawned loudly again – Riku could see his silhouette stretching up. “Well, yeah.”

He was breathing heavily again within moments. Underneath him, Goofy was snoring loudly, and Donald was making strange, quivery sounds.

King Mickey was the only one who slept silently. A warm weight on Riku, that was actually comforting. For some reason, he felt like this tiny mouse understood everything, and was telling him to stay. It was telling him he had to do this. He had to run. And Sora was the best choice.

That was probably just wishful thinking.


	2. The Medallion

The Medallion

Riku woke before Sora.

He was used to waking up at dawn. It was the only way to have any time to himself.

King Mickey had curled up by his head at some point in the knight, and he gently untangled the sleeping mouse from strands of his hair. He would have to find some way of tying it back – and soon.

The cabin had red, woven rugs on the floor and red, velvet curtains that hadn’t been undrawn before they went to bed. It made the whole place glow orange. It really was a mess, with pencils and sea charts and compasses scattered everywhere, as well as the majority of Sora’s belongings. There was a golden seal on the side, embossed on the bottom with a coat of arms Riku didn’t recognise. It must have been stolen.

Sora was not a graceful sleeper. One leg hung out of the hammock, kicking Goofy behind the ear, and one arm was over his forehead, the other stretched out and hanging in mid-air. His mouth was half-open too, but at least he wasn’t drooling.

Riku didn’t mean to stare. But then Sora shifted his arm and tilted his head to the side, just as Riku sat up. Sora’s dark hair was even more of a mess and it was at complete contrast with the look of peace on his face. The early morning sun made his brown skin _glow_ all the more, even if there was dirt smeared across his forehead and cheekbones. Made his dark eyelashes cast long shadows over his cheeks. Made his mouth and cheeks look ever so slightly pink. Beautiful, really, was the way to describe it.

His own face felt warm. The warmth spread all the way up to from his chest, bringing his heart with it so that it pounded in his mouth.

He needed air. He was drowning in here.

As he stood, King Mickey jumped to attention. It blinked up at Riku with those bright, shining eyes, looking from him to Sora as if it could understand everything that was happening. And then, without a moment’s hesitation, ran up the sleeve of Riku’s blazer as if it was a ladder.

It was instinct to bat the tiny creature away from him. He’d never been a fan of scurrying mice – but there was something about this one that he couldn’t say no to. The longer that he looked at those eyes, and those ears and that tiny, twitching nose, the more he felt himself become attached to it.

No, not it. He. Sora had called the mouse a he. Normally, it would be silly to do so, but this mouse _seemed_ clever.

So he let King Mickey stay perched on his shoulder as he crept out of the cabin, leaving his boots behind.

The ship was a bright crimson in the daylight, the gold of the prow glinting like the sun had crash-landed onto the front of the ship.

He could leave. This was his last chance, before they set sail – before Sora woke up and smiled at him – he could go back. He could make up a story about being kidnapped by pirates and maybe his mother would be so relieved that he was all right that she would –

The King’s tiny paws dug into his shoulder, like the mouse could tell what he was thinking.

“I know,” he murmured, starting up the stairs at the back of the ship slowly. “I know that no matter what happened to me now it wouldn’t change her. It wouldn’t change them.”

The mouse sniffed at his ear, and he realised how ridiculous this was. One night on this ship – one night knowing this boy, and he was already talking to animals.

No, he was simply thinking out loud, he told himself. He hadn’t been talking to the mouse. The mouse wasn’t trying to tell him anything. The mouse was sniffing his ear and wondering if it was something to eat.

Riku was stood at the back of the ship now, looking out over the other side of the river Avon. The water was dark green murk below him. He felt like that – like he needed a good wash already. He wasn’t used to sleeping without changing clothes – without getting ready for bed at all.

And he was still wearing his uniform. He knew he would have to ditch it as soon as possible. As if everything else didn’t seem out of place about him. His hands fumbled with the cravat, and King Mickey had to scramble desperately around his hands as he undid his blazer and waistcoat too. His shirt and breeches at least, were plain enough.

Bundling the three garments into one, he tossed the whole thing overboard, watching white and blue disappear into the murk.

And then he took a deep breath out. It felt like he’d removed shackles – or had at least unlocked them.

The wind was sharp this morning, whipping the river into tiny waves and spraying Riku’s hair against his face. Mickey was shivering, and, after a few moments, he curled himself underneath Riku’s collar to hide from the weather.

He _really_ didn’t like mice. It brought back memories of being small and hearing them scurry underneath the boy’s beds in the dark. The thought of the little feet and the naked tails on his skin had made him toss and turn all night.

But there was something to be said for having a small animal on his shoulder. He wasn’t alone, and the creature was a shred of warmth in the face of a chilly morning. The mouse made him feel like some sort of fantasy hero – they always had animal companions with them.

And was this not an adventure?

He stared out at the sandstone buildings around them. They were all so _grand_ from the outside – but he suspected on the inside they were damp and cramped. It, at least, made for a nice view as he let the decision sink in.

He supposed he was a pirate now.

That should have been a much scarier thought.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he heard Sora stumbling up the stairs. But suddenly he was leaning – almost crashing – into the bannister with so much force Riku thought he was going to go overboard.

Sora was staring out at the docks too, his bedhead wilder than ever.

“You’re still here,” Sora muttered. As if he was surprised – as if he was used to people walking out on him. Riku wondered what that would be like – to be left behind instead of held back.

“I lost a bet,” he replied.

Sora laughed then – a sound that was too bright and merry for the morning. A few nearby seagulls fluttered their wings, glaring at them with red-rimmed eyes.

“And you’ve made a friend.” Sora nodded to the mouse tucked into Riku’s shoulder.

He shrugged, which dislodged King Mickey and made him curl back up further under the collar. “Why’s he got that name?”

“Because I used to have a friend called Michael, and we called him Mickey for short.”

“No, why is he a King?”

“Oh.” There was that lopsided grin. “Because he bosses Donald and Goofy around.”

“You’re joking.”

Sora’s eyes glittered. “You’ll see.”

Riku paused. Sora was shorter than him, by a good deal. It made him look younger than ever, though he wasn’t scrawny.

“Forgive me for asking,” Riku started. “Because I know we’ve only just met-“

“And yet you’ve already spent the night in my rooms, _Master Riku_.” Sora was just teasing, but it made his heart flutter in panic. He knew he went red at the drop of the hat, and there was the blush now, crawling its way up his cheeks. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. This wasn’t polite society anymore – it was banter.

It may even have been flirting.

“How – how does someone like you acquire a ship like this?”

Sora turned then, so that his back was against the railing. He tipped his head back to the sky, a smile playing on his lips.

“Well, that’s not as interesting a story as you would think,” he said. “We were playing cards – speculation – and I-“

Sora trailed off as a small, furry creature pulled its way onto the railing. Riku felt himself tense. More tiny paws and naked tails. More beady eyes and a twitching nose. No rats in the bilge indeed.

“It’s Little Chief,” Sora said, bluntly.

“More animals.” Riku wanted to sigh. It seemed like more of a zoo than a ship. “You have more crew members than you first told me about.”

Sora wasn’t listening. His eyes were on the creature. The rat nimbly ran along the rail of the ship, coming to a halt in front of them and looking up at Sora. It was carrying something in its tiny human-like hands. A small, gold medallion.

“Oh blimey, Little Chief.” Sora took the medallion quickly. It was the first time Riku had seen him look anything other than carefree. His body had gone tight and his face was pale. He licked his lips, offering a hand to Little Chief to jump onto. “We need to get you in the cabin and smartly now.”

“What is it?”

Sora already had a grip on his arm, pulling him back down the stairs. King Mickey dug his paws into his shoulder uncomfortably.

“You said you were on the run,” Sora said, kicking the door of the cabin open and pulling Riku outside.

“Well, yes, but-“

Sora poked his head out of the cabin, eyes on the docks, before he closed the door. “Then you need to hide.”

“Why?”

He didn’t get a reply. Sora was kicking up clothes and scattered books feverishly. Little Chief had jumped from his hand onto the table, knocking the compasses from it. Riku could only blink in astonishment as the rat began _rolling up the map_. _Actually_ rolling it, with his tiny paws.

Impossible.

“Riku.” Sora’s voice was commanding, and he found himself snapping to attention. There was a hole in the corner of the cabin. It was in the corner, of the cabin – a narrow, black space that stretched into the floor. “Do you trust me?”

“Tell me what’s happening.” Riku hoped to match that tone of authority. It was the tone everyone but him seemed to have mastered.

“Do you trust me?”

Sora’s eyes were blazing blue fire. They were wide.

Scared. He was scared about something.

Riku nodded.

And stepped into the narrow space. It was down a step, partly into the hold of the ship. The wood looked about to break under him, and there was scarcely room for his shoulders, but he managed.

Sora bit his lip as he looked down. And then he nodded and closed the compartment back up, leaving Riku in the darkness. With King Mickey wiggling on his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes shut – concentrating on the sound of the water on the outside of the ship. He was on a ship. He wasn’t in the dorms anymore.

There was a loud shout from outside the ship.

He heard Sora curse – heard the sound of him dropping something, and then the slam of the cabin door. Donald was quacking rapidly and he could just imagine the duck hopping up and down in frustration. It was what he felt like doing.

What in the world was that medallion?

They couldn’t have found him yet. He’d been careful – he’d written letters so that it would take weeks for them to realise that he wasn’t in either of the places he should be. They couldn’t have figured it out so quickly.

There were heavy footfalls outside the cabin. People were coming on board. It sounded like a whole hoard of elephants. He opened his eyes and found a narrow shaft of light by his head. If he tilted it, he got a glimpse of the untidy cabin.

“Captain Barbosa!” He heard Sora’s voice. Slightly too high and slightly too tight. “I had no clue you were in Bristol.”

“Captain Sora!” Another man called, though it was clear he meant the ‘captain’ to be mocking. As if Sora was a child with a toy boat. “I’m sure you had at least _one_ clue, am I right?”

Riku strained his ears to hear the conversation. Sora had left the cabin door open and he was stood in the archway, looking as though he was trying to block as much of it from view.

“Well-“

“I thought I told you to keep that dirty, thieving bilge rat off of my ship.” The man’s voice was like a knife to the throat, full of a threat. Little Chief seemed to sense he was the topic of conversation, and scrambled from the table, taking refuge behind Goofy’s bed. The dog was fast asleep, though Donald was still ruffling his feathers.

Sora took an unwilling step back into the cabin, and Riku got a glimpse of the man he was speaking to. He was wide, and hulking, though dressed impeccably, with a quilted overcoat and embroidered waistcoat. Next to him, Sora’s plain, torn clothes looked all the scruffier. There was even a huge feather on the man’s hat. He was the very idea of a pirate – with a scruffy beard and unkempt, long hair – like he’d stepped straight out of a story book.

“Little Chief just likes shiny things,” Sora said. “He gave it me back-“

“Do you hear that, lads?” The pirate – Barbosa, Riku guessed – turned back, laughing. “He named the mangy thing! Little chief!”

There was a raucous of laughter from outside the cabin. The _crew_ was onboard, Riku realised. His heart was racing. They were trapped.

“You named your monkey,” Sora muttered, but he seemed different now. His shoulders were hunched defensively, like he was ready for a fight.

“It was an _insult_ to another one of _your_ thieving friends.” Barbosa jabbed a finger at Sora’s chest, but he stepped back before it made contact. He glanced back at the gaggle of men outside. “Sorry for bringing them all with me. I was wondering how many of us it would take before your ship sank.”

“The Highwind is no schooner, Captain.” Sora was fishing in his pocket. “There’s your medallion. It won’t happen again.”

The man swiped the tiny gold coin from Sora’s palm. Sora’s shoulders twitched ever so slightly. Riku recognised that twitch. It was the twitch of someone who expected a slap.

“Could have cursed us all over again.” The coin disappeared into Barbosa’s coat. Riku frowned. Cursed? Surely that was a figure of speech – or paranoia. “But that’s not what I wanted a word with you about.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Sora asked. He was standing in front of the collection of animals, as if it would shield them from view.

Barbosa sat down heavily in one of the chairs, kicking his les out to take as much room up as possible. Sora stayed where he was. This was an insult, Riku knew, but Sora was taking it. This didn’t seem like the same boy he’d met last night. This looked like a boy getting scolded by the headmaster.

“There was a boy in the pub last night-“

“How incredibly unusual,” Sora said. He received a sharp look and swallowed.

“A boy that definitely wasn’t meant to be in these ends. Wore a Harrow uniform. Ring any bells?”

The uniform he’d just thrown overboard appeared in Riku’s mind. He bit his lip. King Mickey’s tiny paws really were digging into him now.

“Not a one.” Sora didn’t even waver, though Riku knew he must have seen.

“That’s interesting.” Barbosa paused, running a finger down a mark in the table. “Because a few of my men saw him coming aboard your…sailboat.”

The tips of Sora’s ears had gone pink. He looked down, letting colour flood his cheeks.

“Okay, you caught me.” Riku’s heart sunk at those words, only to be replaced with fury. He’d expected better – he didn’t expect Sora to give him up at the first sign of trouble. “He _was_ here. He left before I woke up.”

There were sniggers from the door. The other men were listening and Sora turned from pink to red. But the anger was disappearing from Riku. Maybe he should have been embarrassed at the obvious insinuation, but he couldn’t bring himself to be. Sora really _was_ going to cover for him.

“It would be an idea to be more subtle about your-“ Barbosa let the word hang in the air like a throwing knife. “ _Inclinations_. Or you’ll be dancing with the hempen jig for the wrong reason.”

“I know.” There was a slight edge to Sora’s voice. Then he gave a small smile, tucking his chin in slightly so that he looked bashful. “But he was pretty, and we were drunk.”

A loud ‘hm’ nose came from the back of Barbosa’s throat. “Well if you ever bump into your pretty boy again, I’d keep hold of him. Boy like that – the ransom would be huge. Every ship ‘round here’s keeping an eye out. Nice easy money holding a rich kid like that for a while.”

“Aye,” Sora said. “Thanks for the warning.”

Barbosa stood, just as heavily, making the whole ship sway. “Well then, I’ll leave your to your-“ Again, he let the word rest for just a moment. “Crew, Captain.”

The men outside began their chorus of laughter again as they were joined by the captain. A few names were called out to Sora – none of them pleasant. It was clear they had heard every word and were enjoying seeing just how small and red he could make himself.

The cabin door slammed shut. As soon as it did, Donald quacked indignantly and ran forward, whereas Goofy raised a sleepy head.

The elephants chorus of footsteps started up again and seemed to go on for an age. Riku was left staring at Sora, stood in the cabin with a foot out to stop Donald from charging straight into the door and a hand on Goofy’s head. He looked younger than ever – looked more like a boy playing pretend than ever.

Riku’s chest felt tight. Without thinking about it, he raised a hand to King Mickey, who sniffed his fingers, then let him touch his tiny head.

Sora was probably the worst pirate he had ever seen.

*

As soon as the voices had retreated all the way down the dock, Sora gave Goofy’s head a final pat and stepped forward to free Riku from his hiding place. If it had been last night, he would have offed the boy a hand up. Maybe he would have winked.

But he couldn’t quite bring himself to. His nerves were still jittery and he hated that. Riku had seen. He had seen and heard everything. It wasn’t charming that Sora had a small boat full of oddly named animals, it was embarrassing. No doubt he really would be leaving now – now that he knew that Sora could hardly call himself a pirate.

Riku stepped up into the cabin without a word.

And as Sora started to move the false door back into place, Riku’s hands appeared on it. Pushing it back alongside him. His heart stuttered. Riku wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t looking at him in disgust.

He wasn’t leaving.

Sora chanced a glance upward. Instead of pity – well, there was some pity – but instead of all pity, there was – curiosity.

“Well.” Sora forced a smile onto his face. Forced his tone to be bright and happy. Ships run on happy faces. “If we want to sail right into that storm, we’d best start setting sail.”

“Sora.” Riku’s voice was gentle. He ignored it.

“That’s Captain Sora, to you. Come on, Master Riku – shake a leg!” He opened the cabin door, letting Donald out. He fluttered his wings and let out a flurry of quacks. Goofy just plodded out, leaning his heavy body against Sora’s. He gave him a scratch behind the eyes, then began untying the sails. He turned to see Riku following him, those sea-green eyes still watching him. “I never thought to ask where you were headed.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Riku replied, stepping up to the mast and untying slowly. “As far away from England as possible.”

“The Caribbean?” Sora suggested. “Australia? The Middle East?”

“Yes.” There was a distant look in Riku’s eye. “All of them.”

Sora found himself grinning. Genuinely grinning.

“Aye,” he said. “I could do that.”

They let the ship lose and were out of the dock by mid-morning. It was simple enough to head down the Avon. The wind was fair, and the weather had warmed up – the sun warm on the back of Sora’s neck. It still felt cold to him. He was used to the _sun_ – used to almost unbearable, unrelenting heat, not watery sunshine.

Riku came to stand by him at the helm mid-morning. King Mickey had stayed nestled in the collar of his school shirt, and every so often, he would touch him to check he was still there. Was still real. Sora felt like doing the same to him.

Riku hadn’t left.

They stood in silence for a while, watching Donald chase Goofy angrily around the deck in front of them after another tail sniffing incident. Or admiring the sandstone buildings slowly going by as they cut into the Bristol channel, joining up with the River Severn.

“Wouldn’t be sorting the sails if you were on Barbosa’s crew,” Sora said. He wasn’t sure why, it was like he had something to prove. He had many things to prove, but it wasn’t like he could do any of it. “He’d have you swabbing below decks for months before you got to see the sun.”

Riku took his time in replying. Now that it was warmer, the pink had gone from his cheeks. Sora risked a sideways glance. He really _was_ pretty – that part hadn’t been a lie. With that long, straight nose, he could rival Byron.

“How did you make such a charming acquaintance?”

Which actually made Sora snort. It was easy for him to laugh, easier than for most people, but with Riku he hardly seemed to be able to stop himself. He wasn’t even _that_ funny.

“I worked on his crew for a bit.” Sora kept it vague. “Years ago, now.”

Riku seemed to be waiting for more, and when he didn’t get it, he cleared his throat. “You were saying – before, about Speculation. And the Highwind.”

“Yeah, I won her,” Sora said. “I figured out how to hide aces in my sleeve that morning. I’d woken early and had nothing else to do. When we docked for the night, I challenged anyone I could in that pub to a game of cards. Most people didn’t care to. I had no money, so, nothing to win from. Nobody wanted to steal lint from a kid. But then one guy did. He was from the East – his name was Yen Sid. When I demanded a game of cards, he just smiled and opened his hands – like this – and said he had no money, but he was willing to bet his ship.”

“You conned an old man out of his ship?”

Sora bit his lip, turning the wheel ever so slightly. “He knew I had cheated. I’m sure he did. But he let me have it anyway. It was like – it was like he didn’t care – like he wanted me to have it. When I told him what I wanted my own ship for, it was like I’d passed some kind of test.”

Riku waited, again, for more, and didn’t get any. Sora knew he was being unfair, but it went both ways. He’d only tell Riku so much as Riku told him. Barbosa had given the information about Harrow away, so it was only fair Sora gave him a _little bit_ for free.

Harrow. He’d thought it last night, but now it was certain. This boy had ran from Harrow on the Hill. Surely that was unheard of. Surely most English men would give an arm and a leg to go there.

And Riku had left.

“We’ll have to get you out of those clothes.” Sora knocked the back of his hand against Riku’s bicep. Lord, they were big. What did they _eat_ at Harrow?

“Excuse me?” Riku’s face went carnation pink. Sora pretended not to notice the insinuation.

“Much too loose to be out as sea. You’ll get all tangled up in the rigging. I have some spares in my cabin you can try.”

He stepped away from the wheel and Riku frowned at him.

“You can leave the helm?”

“Someone’s been studying his ship words.” Sora’s stomach had settled enough to try for another smile. “Yeah, it’s mostly straight from here.”

So they headed back into the cabin, where they were met by Little Chief sat on the table. If a rat could tap his paws in impatience, he would be doing so. He was surrounded my grapes and cheese and crackers.

“Ah,” Sora said. “Little Chief makes sure that I remember lunch.”

Riku just blinked at him. Maybe it was remarkable, that a rat had such an affinity for food, but Little Chief was special. Anyone could see that.

He found the largest clothes he could and stepped outside to give him some privacy. He leant against the door of the cabin and felt his legs slide away from underneath him. He sat on the deck and ran his hands over his face. Riku had heard the whole thing.

Maybe he should just jump overboard now.

Both Donald and Goofy came up, Goofy nuzzling his cheek with a large, wet nose, and Donald picking at his bootlaces determinedly. He put a hand on both of them, feeling a warm buzz in his chest.

“I’m okay now,” he muttered, and tried to mean it.

Riku opened the cabin door moments later and they exchanged the same bashful stare. The clothes were too small – showing much more of Riku’s wrists and ankles than they decently should. Sora could see blue and purple veins in his wrists. His skin was so _pale_ – it was like he was an ice sculpture.

“Ah. Well, we can try something else-“

“I think you’re too small.” Riku had the decency to look embarrassed about it, tugging at the cuffs of the shirt.

“How dare you speak to your Captain like that.”

“My Captain is short,” Riku amended. He held up a hand to measure Sora against himself, barely making it past his chest. Sora batted it down, feeling his cheeks burn.

“ _You’re_ the one who’s too tall.”

Riku smiled then. _Almost_ laughed. There was a twinkle in his eye that Sora hadn’t seen before and his eyes caught on it. He still had a hand on Riku’s wrist, but he hadn’t pulled away. There were just there, staring at each other and both smiling with warm cheeks.

“About…” Riku took a breath. “You said, that we-“

Sora took his hand away. Shoved it back in his pocket and leant against the wall of the cabin. Like it didn’t matter.

“Most pirates are,” he said. “Well, some of them say it’s just because there are no ladies around at sea, but that’s just something to ease their conscience. It’s not – generally – not seen as any different to when a man and a woman. Or a woman and a woman.”

“That’s – that can-?”

“Course it can.” Sora bit his cheek to stop from laughing. Clearly Riku didn’t have much experience with ladies. “Does it bother you, what I said? I thought it was the quickest lie.”

Riku leant back against the cabin too, gingerly. “Thank you, for covering for me.”

“Anytime,” Sora said. He looked over Riku – took back in those ankles – those calves – and those arms one last time. He knew Riku noticed the lingered stare. But he was starting to suspect that Riku didn’t mind. He hadn’t left, he hadn’t pulled away – something was there, definitely. But it was like a sparrow, it had to be approached with caution, or it would fly away. “There’s some spare fabric below. It’d be easy to make clothes in a bigger size.”

“Only girls sew.” Riku snorted.

Donald let out a flurry of quacks then that sounded like laughter. Even Goofy’s sneeze sounded like a guffaw.

Sora just raised an eyebrow and watched the blood drain from Riku’s face.

“You don’t – I mean –“

Oh, Sora did like this one. He absolutely loved teasing this one.

He let a smile spread across his face and made sure he sounded sweet when he asked, “isn’t it about time you swabbed the deck?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N):I forgot to say in the author's note of the last chapter that Goofy has the same kind of eyes as Jenna Marbles' dogs.  
> Thank you for all of the support on this fic!! I really appreciate it!! I've been daydreaming about this fic in work (And I wear regency costume as my job, so - Marianne Dashwood totally thinks about gay pirates 90% of the time. That's canon now) so I'm really glad that other people enjoy my niche rambling!  
> Hope this chapter lived up to expectations and I'll see you next week! xx


	3. The Wayfinder

The Wayfinder

They didn’t talk anymore about Barbossa’s visit. They didn’t talk about how every pirate in Bristol would be on the look-out for a boy with silver hair, that Riku was undeniably from one of the most prestigious schools in England, or that Sora was hardly a pirate at all.

Sora sewed at the helm and Riku swabbed the deck until it was shining. They were clear of England now, out at the open sea and this was the part Sora loved. To not have anything on the horizon line. To have everything on the horizon line.

He leant against the stern as he worked, just so he could watch Riku adjusting the sails. He’d tied his hair back with a piece of scrap cloth, so that it didn’t always hang in his eyes. It was a good look on him. There was something about the small, silver ponytail that Sora couldn’t take his eyes off.

His muscles worked as he pulled at the rope, which was actually just as mesmerising as the ponytail. If Sora wasn’t careful, he’d be smitten within the week. It had only been two nights of knowing each other, and already he was falling fast.

When he’d first spotted Riku he’d been attracted to him, and nothing the boy did seemed to break that attraction. If he had at least pulled his hand quickly away from Sora’s, hadn’t let their touches last for more than a moment, then he could have suffered in unrequited peace.

The fact that he hadn’t was enough to keep Sora frowning at the ceiling half the night.

If he had been drunk two days ago, it would have happened. He would have been bold enough to kiss the boy. But he hadn’t, and he couldn’t break that now. They were stuck in this question. This no man’s land.

Donald quacked at him, and he leant down to tap him on the beak.

When he straightened up, he saw the other ship appearing on the horizon. It was cutting a fine figure through the water and Sora’s heart jumped. Could be anyone – but mostly likely more people come to put him to shame.

“Should I go below?” Riku called up to him.

Sora shook his head. “They’re coming into port. They won’t have heard about you yet. Goofy! Spyglass!” It would have been perfect if the dog had gone bounding off straight away. Instead he had to lean over the rail. “Goofy, spyglass!”

Goofy was scratching his ear with his hind leg and staring into space. He tried again.

“ _Goofy! Spyglass!”_

The dog finally lumbered into the cabin. It seemed like an age before he was trotting up the steps, a very salivary spyglass in his mouth.

Riku was laughing as Sora took it. They were rare, those laughs, but they were something. It was the laugh of someone who wasn’t used to it – was just figuring out how they wanted theirs to sound.

“Shut your bone box.” But Sora was grinning as he unfolded the object. He held it up to his eye to get a better look and his heart jumped again – but out of relief this time. It was a huge man of war, the hull looking more like dragon’s scales than a ship, with a fantastic figurehead of a knight at the front. It was _Wayfinder_.

He could hardly wait for it to get close enough. He knew that Riku was watching him, wondering about the grin, but he didn’t have the breath to exchange. His mind was way ahead of him – thinking forward to how much he had to tell everyone – how much he had to say.

Finally – _finally_ it was close enough, and Sora ran forward to lift the white flag. He ran to the side of the ship, hands cupped around his mouth.

“Ahoy! _Ahoy_!”

There was movement on the ship. He squinted to see, then remembered the spyglass, and used it instead. There was a figure against the railing. Waving.

“Drop the anchor,” Sora told Riku.

“You know them?” But Riku was already doing it.

“They’re – yes. Yes, I know them.”

They waited as the huge ship pulled up alongside them, and even longer as a gangplank was lowered between the two. There were a lot of calls from the other ship – but friendly calls – of “there’s the little lion!” “It’s Sora!” “The trusty old Highwind, eh?”

He grinned at Riku, who stared back with confusion and amazement.

And then _finally_ there was a figure coming down the gangplank. A tall, broad man with long dark hair and skin only a few shades lighter than Sora’s own. He was grinning too, and as soon as he stepped off the gangplank, his arms were outstretched.

Sora dived into them without a second thought, and felt the hum of laughter in the man’s chest as he did. He held him tightly, squeezing his eyes shut just in case they thought to start crying.

“Terra!”

“Sora.” Terra was catching his shoulders, pushing him away so that he could examine him from arm’s length. “You know, I don’t think you’ve grown an inch.”

“Lies. Just last month I grew a whole half inch.” He couldn’t take the smile off of his face.

“Is that so?” Terra’s hand was in his hair, ruffling it even more than the wind already had. That was when Terra’s blue eyes found Riku, stood watching with a stunned expression.

“Terra – this is Riku, he’s the latest member of my crew.” Sora grabbed the boy’s arm, dragging him closer. “The first _human_ member of my crew. Riku, this is Captain Terra. I – worked on his ship a while.”

“Nice to meet you.” Riku was like a debutante, holding his hand out and flashing a charming smile.

“Aye, you too.” Terra was smiling slightly, like this was all amusing. He raised his eyebrows at Sora as he let Riku’s hand go. The question was obvious. Sora tilted his head and shrugged, feeling his cheeks warm, but determined not to make a show of it.

“So, Sora finally caught himself a human,” a female voice joined them, and the woman wasted no time in getting Sora into a headlock, ruffling her hand through his hair. “Unless you’re really a werewolf, or something.”

Riku half-laughed, looking mesmerised by her presence.

“And this is my co-Captain, Aqua.” Terra said.

Sora wiggled his way out of Aqua’s grip. He couldn’t blame Riku – she was like no other woman he’d seen before. Willowy, with ivory skin and dark hair that seemed almost blue when the light hit it. She wore a lady’s corset over a men’s shirt, and had cut her petticoats so that they sat in a flounce around men’s breeches. Truly the pinnacle of pirate fashion.

“And _there’s_ Goofy!” Aqua leapt forward, squishing the dogs face and scratching his chin. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Pluto. Pluto is a good boy,” Terra said. “Goofy is…”

Sora frowned. “Goofy is perfect.”

Terra drew in a breath between his teeth. “He’s slightly ugly.”

“No.”

“I have to agree,” Riku muttered.

“Mutiny!” Sora cried. “Just because Goofy’s not the prettiest dog in the world, doesn’t mean that he’s not a good boy.”

“He’s just…vacant.” Riku was trying to be tactful, but he was looking at the dog with pity.

Sora pouted at him, but Terra was laughing. “This boy is welcome on my crew anytime.”

So, Sora turned the pout on him too, crossing his arms against his chest.

Riku smiled at him, then turned back to Terra, looking mesmerised by pirates. Real pirates. “Who’s Pluto?”

“ _Our_ dog. Retriever. Best of the best.” Terra grinned. “Did you have any? Back home?”

Riku paused for just a second. Sora looked out at the sea, as if he was admiring the view, but his heart was pounding. Riku didn’t talk about home. He hadn’t let anything slip since coming aboard.

“We bred Dobermans,” Riku said. “I hated them.”

Apparently, all it took was a question to get him to open up. Incredible. Terra had known the boy ten seconds and had already gotten more out of him that Sora had got from even Barbossa.

“Really?” Terra was laughing.

“They were awful.” Riku was serious. “Bred to be as vicious as they possibly could be.”

Which only piqued Sora’s curiosity further. It gave just a snippet of Riku’s life – no doubt he had an estate. No doubt he spent the weekends deer hunting with those hounds.

But Riku hadn’t pried into his life, so he didn’t pry back.

“Whereas Goofy wouldn’t harm a fly,” he said.

“No, but that’s because Goofy doesn’t have the brain power to harm a fly,” Terra said, which made Riku splutter with laughter.

“Oh, hush.” Aqua said, standing up, but still scratching Goofy behind a long ear. She turned to Riku. “You wouldn’t think it, but he’s missed Sora terribly.”

“Missed seeing just how easy the half pint is to rile up,” Terra muttered.

Sora glared, but he lost some of his intensity when he saw Riku biting his lips. His eyes were shining as he looked to Sora. Eyes just the colour of the sea, with silver strands like starlight threatening to hide them.

“Why don’t we all sit down for a glass of brandy?” Aqua suggested.

“I don’t-“

“We brought some.” Terra drew a bottle full of dark liquid out of his satchel, smiling sympathetically. “We guessed you had more important things to buy.”

They headed into the cabin, and Sora spent a rapid five seconds trying to kick all of the clothes on the floor into one corner. There was already an improvement in the tidiness since Riku had come aboard – he had sorted the maps and books into neat, tidy piles and tossed out the broken compasses. It was _almost_ respectable in here.

Little Chief was already on the table, sleeping soundly next to a hunk of bread.

“So, you didn’t get rid of that rat yet.” Terra sat down on one of the spindly chairs carefully, unstopping the brandy.

“Little Chief is a part of the crew.”

“It’s the only thing that reminds him to eat,” Riku said.

Sora shook his head at him. “Mutiny.”

But Terra and Aqua were laughing. Aqua even held her fingers out for the rat to sniff, which he did appreciatively, then rubbed his head against her fingertips.

“Where are you headed?” Sora asked, perching on his own hammock. To his surprise, Riku perched next to him, setting the whole thing rocking gently, and leaving the other seat for Aqua. They were never normally this close. They had stayed in their own hammocks – their own sides of the cabin, since they had set sail. If he focused, he could distinguish a faint perfume on Riku – it made his heart quiver.

“Back to whatever port will take us.” Terra took a swig from the bottle. “There’s a huge-“ he saw the look on Sora’s face. “But you already know there’s a storm coming, don’t you?”

“It’s where we’re headed.”

Aqua frowned. “Sora-“

“The note,” he said. “It’s a full moon, and-“

She shook her head. “It’s madness.”

“I know it’s dangerous.”

“It’s a death sentence,” Terra snapped.

Sora swallowed. Riku’s knee knocked against his and he focused on trying to convince himself that it was an accident.

When he didn’t respond, Terra continued, pointing at Riku. “Does he know? Do you know what you’re sailing into?”

Riku nodded.

Terra shook his head, and a drop of brandy fell from the bottle. Little Chief darted across the table to lick it up.

“It’s going to be – your ship won’t be able to take it, Sora. It’s too small,” Terra continued.

“And where am I going to find a bigger ship? How will I get a bigger ship? It’s not like anyone else will-“

“No one else is stupid enough to sail headfirst into a _storm_!” He turned back to Riku, who was sat very still. Very still and very straight like he was trying to ignore there was an argument happening. “I thought you were sensible – why would you agree to this?”

“I had to get out of England,” Riku said. “As soon as possible.”

“ _Christ_.” Terra sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _Teenagers_. I’m glad you’re not on _my_ ship.”

“Terra,” Aqua spoke softly.

“There’s no teenagers allowed on your ship?” Sora asked. Aqua gave him a warning glance, but he was feeling frustration curling in his stomach. He was tired of not being listened to.

“No.”

“Not even _one_?”

“ _Sora_.” Aqua’s tone was a warning now, too.

Terra gave another heavy sigh and looked up. His eyes had something dangerous in them.

“If there was any chance that he was at the centre of a storm, would you sail into it?” Sora asked.

Aqua just gave him a look. A haunted look that agreed with him. Terra continued staring at him for a long time, but then said, under his breath, “we have a bigger ship.”

“I have to try,” Sora’s voice was almost a whisper.

Silence settled over them. Riku’s knee knocked against his again. Sora knew he was desperate for an explanation. He knew there was so much more of this conversation than they were saying. But he kept quiet.

Then Aqua took a breath and said, “Terra, are you going to drink all of that or share it with the rest of us?”

Terra looked down at the bottle as though he had forgotten he had been holding it. Then he handed it to Aqua without a word. She took a long swig, then handed it to Sora.

“I thought you said glass?” Riku asked.

Sora glanced at him. His cheeks were pink, though he was trying hard to look casual. It only made things worse – the three of them snickered at the question.

“That’s just an expression,” Sora said. He paused to take a swig. It burnt the back of his throat pleasantly. “It’s fine. Just give it a wipe.”

He used the cuff of his coat to wipe the top of the bottle, not breaking eye contact, before he held it out to Riku. It was taken from him gingerly, their fingers brushing against each other’s. Sora twitched his slightly, just to make the touch last longer.

Riku didn’t look at him as he raised the bottle. Sora suspected he had his thumb over the mouth anyway.

The storm cloud had passed.

“So fill me in,” Sora said. “Where have you been and what have you been up to?”

“Aqua has been courting the idea of getting her head chopped off.” Terra raised his hands in the air, like he was the only sensible one.

Aqua’s cheeks flushed a carnation pink – the same colour as her lips as she took another swig from the bottle. She tapped her nails on the side.

“Only in France,” she said. “And I’m part French anyway, so I can’t imagine they would care much. It’s a different world.”

“What did you do?” Riku looked entranced. As Sora raised the bottle, he chanced a glance over at him from the corner of his eye. His eyes were alight – like he was staring at a fantasy come to life.

Maybe he did like women. Or maybe he liked pirates.

Sora passed the brandy over. Riku didn’t wipe it clean.

“Nothing much,” Aqua huffed, glancing over at Terra. “I may have spent a night in Versailles and that may have led to me spending the evening in a very pretty young lady’s boudoir.”

“A lady engaged to the Prince,” Terra added.

“French Kings have mistresses, why can’t the Princesses?” Aqua asked.

“Hear hear!” Sora called. “A toast to Lady Aqua.”

She laughed at that, tipping the bottle back and taking a longer drink than was strictly polite. Sora laughed too, but mainly at the shock on Riku’s face. He looked as though he had been slapped with a dead codfish.

Oh, he had been right in the pub. This one was the right one. This one was fun to introduce to his world.

And when Riku caught his eye and smiled sheepishly, he knew that it was the right thing to do. Riku loved this. He fit in here. This was the world he belonged to, the one free from society.

Sora paused the bottle over, knowing that he was all bright smile and bright eyes.

Riku’s hand closed around his as he took it. And Sora didn’t think he was stoppering it anymore.

“And even if it was for just one night.” Aqua leant back, wistful. “I’m happy to stay Cinderella’s mysterious rendezvous.”

“Your Romantic is showing, Aqua.” Terra rolled his eyes.

“You’re just jealous she didn’t choose you.”

“I – wasn’t interested.”

Aqua raised her hands, and her eyebrows to the ceiling. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Sora laughed, and Riku followed suit. They more they drank, the more they lightened up. As if they didn’t speak about the storm anymore, then it wasn’t a problem. As though Terra had won the argument.

But nothing could change Sora’s mind about this.

*

The clothes were finished the next afternoon. There was a golden light that turned the ocean into a glittering sky of stars, and made Sora look like he belonged in Olympus. It made his skin glow and his hair glow and his impossibly blue eyes stand out all the more.

He tossed the bundle at Riku.

“There. The _girl_ has finished sewing your clothes, Master Riku.”

Riku managed to catch them without fumbling too badly. They didn’t catch him in the face at least.

Sora was sat on the rail of the ship, close enough that he could adjust the wheel with his boot if he needed to. The other leg hung over the side.

“And why am I _Master_ Riku when we’re the same age?” he asked, to distract from the fact that the clothes were well-made. That for two days work, they looked professional. He’d spent more on less.

“Because _I_ have the Captain’s hat.” Sora tilted the clothing in question, casting his face into shadow. It made him look dangerous – made his teeth glint, and Riku’s heart flutter.

“It’ll be too small for your head if you carry on like that.”

“Save the lectures on pride for Harrow, _Master_ Riku.”

They both froze. It had slipped out of Sora’s mouth as a jibe so easily, but they didn’t talk about that. That was the one thing they never mentioned.

“Try them,” Sora said, instead, nodding his head to the bundle in Riku’s arms.

So Riku disappeared into the cabin, breathing heavily because his chest felt tight. He had known Sora had known, but Sora had never mentioned it and he never thought it would have to come up.

King Mickey appeared on the table as he entered, watching him with curious eyes as he peeled off his school shirt. It had become thick with sea salt and sour from sweat. He had been itching for a change of clothes – even if these new ones smelt of the hold. Of flour, cheese and more salt.

When he’d ran, he knew life at sea wouldn’t be easy. He had known that the food would be awful and that the hygiene would be worse. Surprisingly, the food wasn’t that bad. Sora had stocked up at Bristol and could make a good stew. They ate a large dinner in the evening and a pasty porridge in the morning. Sora dumped half a bowlful of sugar into his. It was enough to get by, and Little Chief, incredibly, turned up with snacks throughout the day. It would be a long time before they had to tuck into the dried meats and biscuits.

But Riku was missing bathing. They had some fresh water stowed aboard, but it was reserved for faces, hands and underarms. When Riku had asked about bathing, Sora had said to just jump off the ship and let the sea do the work. The rest was for cooking, and drinking – when they weren’t using rum or ale to cover up the taste of it.

Riku had never had more than a glass of wine at dinner. Now it seemed to be all he drunk. If his mother knew – he steered clear of the thought. And anyway, it was so watered down, that he didn’t even feel the buzz of the alcohol.

Apart from yesterday. With Terra and Aqua. The brandy had burnt but it had warmed his chest and made him feel relaxed. He had felt able to join in the conversation. Had felt witty and confident and –

Sora had leant more and more against him the more he drunk. It was hardly noticeable at first, but then suddenly there were sat flush from knee to shoulder. The front of Sora’s boot had nudged Riku’s heel.

Terra had noticed. His eyebrows kept raising at Sora, but he didn’t say anything. Sora had raised his eyebrows back the first time, but then had elected to look away.

Riku had determinedly ignored it. Had put it down to the alcohol and the swaying of the ship.

Maybe he had chosen wrong. Maybe he should have gone with a nasty crew that didn’t care about him. This was – everything that he couldn’t do. Everything that made his gut twist into itself – made words echo around his head and memories swarm around him like bees.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have an opportunity to escape. Before they had retreated back to their own ship, Terra had asked, “you really have to be away from England?”

Riku had nodded.

He had received a sympathetic grimace. “Shame. We could have done with an extra deckhand. It would have saved you from the storm.”

That was when he had glanced over to Sora, deep in conversation with Aqua. He was gesturing wildly with his hands, and she was listening intently. The idea was tempting, for a second. To be on a real ship. A real crew. Someone who knew what they were doing.

“Sora’s a good kid,” Terra continued. “But I don’t want you to be crimped by him.”

“Thank you for the offer.” The words came out of his mouth before he could think it through. “But I’m staying here.”

There were those raised eyebrows.

“Suit yourself.”

He still couldn’t figure out why he had agreed. Yes Sora was pretty, but that was all he could think of – Riku had to make sure of that. He had to stop that before it went any further. Sora was an awful pirate and was driving them headfirst into a storm, but he was staying.

It felt like he _needed_ to be here, which just sounded like he’d been reading too many books.

He needed to listen less to his heart and more to his head, his mother would say. That was one thing she was undeniably right about. This was madness.

But he knew that he was enjoying eating stew and sipping at diluted rum much more with the worst pirate in history than on a crew full of men.

There was a knock at the door.

“Do they fit okay?” Sora’s voice called.

“Yes.” Riku was surprised at his own answer. Yes, they fit fine. In fact, they fit _too_ well. The shirt was just an inch too tight, the same could be said for the waistcoat and breeches. “Well – they’re – maybe still –“

Sora’s head appeared round the door. For a moment – just a moment, he bit his lip – then he nodded. “I told you, you can’t be having baggy clothes at sea. They’re perfect.”

“Thank you.” His voice sounded much too gentle, and he felt his face flood with heat. “For – for making them, I mean.”

“I’m not too bad at sewing, I would say. For a _boy,_ that is.”

“Where did you even learn to sew?” Riku asked. The King was racing up his shirt sleeve, as always. He was getting used to the feel of tiny feet on him now. It wasn’t stomach crawling. It was _almost_ cute.

“You have to pick these things up, at sea.” Sora stepped back out of the cabin, and Riku followed him. It felt natural now, like they were connected by a magnetic pulse. They left Goofy snoring, taking up both his and Donald’s bed whilst the duck sat at the prow of the ship and took in the last of the afternoon sun.

“Have you always been on a ship?”

Sora had his back to him, heading back up the stairs and back to his perch by the wheel.

“How’d you figure?” he asked.

“Just-“ Riku leant on the bannister at the bottom of the steps, looking up. The wind caught his ponytail in a dance. “You said you were part of Terra’s crew, and part of Barbossa’s, so I wondered…”

He let the wonder trail off.

“Aye,” Sora said. He nudged the wheel with his foot and said nothing more.

Riku still wasn’t done asking questions. “Terra and Aqua – when you said about teenagers…”

Sora took a breath. His back was to the sun, casting shadows over him.

“They lost someone,” he explained, eventually. “His name was Ventus. They say they’re still looking for him, but nothing’s turned up yet.”

It was as vague as ever.

“Riku.” Sora’s voice was serious now. One of the few times he had ever heard it so. “How long before people start looking for you?”

The question caught him off-guard. It was a taste of his own medicine, he guessed. Served him right to pry.

“A couple of weeks. At least.” He tried to choose his words carefully. “I forged letters. My – family thinks I’m at school, and my school thinks I’m with family. It will take them a while to figure out that I’m with neither.”

“That gives us good time to get away.” Sora nodded. “It was lucky that you ran into me. Any other crew in that pub would have offered to take you on, and as soon as you stepped aboard, you’d be thrown in the brig. They’d keep you there until they got the ransom money, and you’d be just as likely to walk the plank as to go home.”

The words were chilling. To run away just to need to be saved. That would have been a complete failure.

“I was lucky then,” Riku said.

Sora’s eyes narrowed. He adjusted his hat, again, this time to let more light on his face. “You could have gone with Aqua. She asked permission to take you on board and promised you’d be looked after. You didn’t have to stay.”

The accusation made it hard to Riku to keep eye contact. He frowned at the deck instead.

“I – like it here fine.”

“How can you?” There was something in Sora’s question. A demand? An insecurity? An anger? A hurt? Riku couldn’t figure it out and all the while they were sailing into more and more dangerous territory.

“The company,” Riku said, eventually. He pointed to the mouse curled on top of his shoulder. “No other boat carries a king onboard.”

Sora stayed staring for a moment, then he laughed – long and loud and merry – and the grin was back. The sparkle in his eye was back.

“Well said, Master Riku. Well said.”

Because, Riku had wanted to say. Because Sora may not have been a good pirate, but he was starting to make a good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Did I include Aqua for the sole purpose of making her gay? Yes. Yes, I did.  
> And not to be that person but please do leave comments/kudos - it can be really hard to get the motivation to keep writing when it feels sort of like throwing the next chapter into a void.  
> Thank you for all of the lovely support so far! I hope this was a good next instalment! <3 xx


	4. The Storm

The Storm

Riku had been tidying the cabin when he came across it. That gold stamp that had stood out so much before. At some point, it had rolled off-of the table. He examined it again – the crest had a crown at the top, and there was a pair of wings incorporated into it. Perhaps it was meant to be a lion as well, but it was hard to make out the shapes.

He leant out of the door, stepping backwards and holding it up to Sora. It was prying – he knew it was prying, but he had been loose-lipped with Terra. If he got an answer, he’d be happy to make a trade.

“What’s this?”

Sora shielded his eyes. He pursed his lips for a second, before he replied. “Wax seal.”

“Is it yours?”

To his surprise, Sora just shrugged. He put his hand back on the wheel, kept looking at the endless horizon line. “Is now.”

Riku supposed that meant that he had stolen it. Maybe it was the only thing on the ship he had pirated. It wasn’t his place, he supposed, so he left it stood back on the table. Then he kept organising the piles of clothes back into trunks and carrying spare rope back into the hold.

It was a fairly empty place. There were a few crates full of food, a few coils of rope and a few cannonballs tucked into a corner. There were two cannons left on the ship, and he knew there was a gun either side of the wheel. But he hoped it would never come to that. Maybe somehow they’d stay out of that particular trouble.

Goofy ran up to him when he strode back onto the dock, jumping up at him. He grimaced and pushed him back down by the snout.

When he looked up to see Sora staring at him, his eyes glittering. He blinked when Riku caught him looking; turned his attention back to the sea.

“You didn’t have to-“

“One of us did,” Riku said.

That made Sora grin, though he was still looking away. He couldn’t think too much about that look – the fondness that had already seemed to settle on Sora’s face when they looked at each other. It was dangerous.

“Half-sails, if you will Master Riku,” Sora called.

He rolled his eyes. No, this hadn’t been a mistake. He’d never get away with doing that if it hadn’t been Sora he had headed towards. It wouldn’t have been this laidback, this easy. This felt right – this made him feel like someone he wasn’t. He could convince Sora that he was witty and fearless – the kind of person he wanted to be.

The complete opposite of who he was.

So it was easy to give a mocking salute and reply “aye, aye, Captain.”

Because instead of earning him a flogging, it just made Sora laugh.

*

"See that?" Sora pointed at a line of dark clouds on the horizon. "That's it. It'll be upon us late afternoon."

Donald was roosting on the back of the ship, and he ruffled his feathers indignantly at the thought.

On the deck, Riku looked up from the ropes, blowing silver strands out of his eyes. Already he looked at ease – like he belonged here. It wasn’t just the clothes – though they certainly added a roughish air to him – he just seemed to belong on a ship.

Although that might have just been wishful thinking on Sora’s part.

"Do we have to make any preparations?" Riku asked.

We. They were a 'we' now.

"When it gets closer, we'll put the animals in the hold," Sora replied.

Riku nodded and finished tying the sails. Then he looked up with those dazzling eyes and Sora’s heart decided to skip every other beat it could.

"Sora, what exactly are we meant to find when we get there?"

"Captain Sora." He leant against the railing of the stern, thinking over his answer. Riku had answered simply enough when it was Terra asking the questions – why not try some of his own? "Tell me about Harrow first."

Riku frowned. He leant against the mast and crossed his arms. Sora had been right about that shirt - it was too tight. That had been on purpose.

"Why?"

"You tell me a secret," Sora said. "And I'll tell you one of mine."

"Knowing what I'm about to sail headfirst into is hardly a secret." Riku was indignant, and it made Sora grin. He sounded posh, when he did that - a petulant child used to getting anything he wanted.

So, he shrugged, sighed and looked up at the storm clouds, feigning indifference. But he was burning to know. He was burning to know anything about this boy.

"Did you get expelled?" Sora pressed.

"No!" Riku's frown deepened, as if that was offensive. "Well, nothing so formal. I was most likely on my way to being...asked to leave."

"Fascinating." Sora stacked his fists on top of each other, then rested his chin on top of them. "What does one do to get expelled?"

"Fail a test?" Riku shrugged. "Not score any points in sports? Not hand in homework on time? Do anything to not fit the perfection that is Harrow on the Hill?"

"You did all that?"

"I have never failed a test or failed to hand in homework in my life. And I'm Captain of the squash team, I'll have you know."

Squash. Sport. That explained the arms. Sora let his gaze slide back over them. Was it his imagination or did Riku tense slightly?

"So if you were such a perfect student, why were you about to be expelled?"

"Because I'm not the kind of student they want there." Riku was talking guardedly now.

"Why?"

He paused. "Because I'm a whig. I agree with the workers revolts - I think they should be treated better, get more pay."

All very noble, Sora thought sardonically. Which just sounded hypocritical in Riku's posh accent. It was clear from his flushed cheeks that he was telling the truth.

And yet - "anything else?"

Riku's eyes narrowed. He knew the question Sora was asking. It was the same one he'd been asking with his lingering touches and not so subtle stares. He watched Riku's chest rise as he took a deep breath in.

"That's enough for you to tell me what we're looking for."

"Touché," Sora murmured. "You should be well-read, are you familiar with Pandora's box?"

"Yes." Riku clearly expected more, and when he didn't get it, he blinked. "You're not serious?"

"The legend goes that the big three Gods hid the box by using their combined powers. Water and sky and death is a storm. The box is at the centre."

"I've never heard that version," Riku said, slowly.

"Or there's Davy Jones' chest. The Flying Dutchman should have it on board, and appears when there’s a sinking ship."

"So, your plan is to find a mythological chest or to get us killed so that a pirate myth finds us?"

When he put it like that it made Sora seem like a child. Like a very silly child chasing fairy tales. He frowned at Riku, who simply frowned back up at him.

“I have it on good authority that what I need is at the centre of that storm.”

“The note,” Riku said it so calmly, like he had all of the pieces. “You mentioned a note-”

“Tell me the real reason you left Harrow and I’ll tell you about the note.” Sora grinned.

Riku glared at him. His eyes were like a cat’s – green and shiny and sharp. He opened his mouth, cheeks flushed with colour –

And then stopped.

“Did you just feel that?” he asked.

“You’re changing the subject.” But Sora felt it too. A drop of rain. And another, and another. “Grab Goofy.”

He gave himself the task of scooping Donald up from his perch. The chunky duck kicked his feet out angrily at him, trying to peck his knuckles as best as he could. Sora ended up half-throwing him into the cabin, which only riled Donald up more. He closed and locked the door before he could flutter back, though, turning to find a laughing Riku. He was standing close – closer than usual, with his head tilted down slightly.

Sora would practically have to jump if he wanted to kiss him. Part of him wanted to try – just to test it.

“Mickey needs to go in.” Riku’s voice was low.

Sora didn’t move. He felt stunned – like a bomb was going off in his face. Eyes – blue-green eyes – so close – perfect nose – perfect mouth – perfect face. “Right.”

Riku put a hand on the cabin wall, leaning ever so slightly closer. “The door, Sora.”

There was an edge to Riku’s voice that kickstarted him. Made the butterflies in his stomach settle somewhat and made a plan form in his mind. He pressed his weight against the door, feeling Donald pound against it.

“That’s hardly the right way to ask, is it?” 

Riku hesitated. The King was sat under his collar, a dark ball of fluff. For some reason, he’d attached himself to Riku, and hadn’t left his side. It would have been jealousy-inducing, if it wasn’t so endearing. To watch Riku’s clumsy hands stroke at the Prince’s head and back.

“May I please get into the cabin, _Captain_ Sora?”

The butterflies took flight again – a furious flurry in his stomach. It wasn’t just the name – it was the part sarcasm, part tease behind it. It was the fact that Riku had leant _just_ a little bit closer as he said it, so close that Sora felt his breath in a puff on his forehead.

It was the fact that Riku had called him Captain and that was – incredible.

But he couldn’t let any of that show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and shrugged like he was indifferent. He finally stepped away from the door with a, “very well, then.”

The key was still in, and Riku unlocked it. He was careful to only open it a crack, only enough to squeeze by and deposit the mouse somewhere safe.

It was still wide enough for Donald to escape from.

He aimed straight at Sora, who covered his face with his forearms to protect himself from the onslaught.

Riku dived forward to try to catch the duck, who flapped his wings to beat him off, landing back on the deck and making a break for the prow.

Sora cursed and raced after the duck. The rain was spitting down now. They were approaching the storm quicker than he had thought – the wind must have been strong.

Every time he got close to Donald, the duck saw him and ran in the opposite direction. And every time Riku got close, the duck would turn away from them both, heading to the other end of the ship. They continued running after the beast as the deck grew more and more slippery and their boots started to soak through.

It was the King that sorted it. Somehow, he had roused Goofy from his slumber and made him plod out of the cabin. He was sat comfortably on the dog’s misshapen head.

Riku skidded to a stop, staring at them.

Goofy gave a low bark and Donald stop in his tracks. The duck looked back at them.

And then strutted inside as cool as ice. He moved calmly across the deck, tucking his feathers back into place and all but nodding at the two as he passed.

The three disappeared back into the cabin and Sora slid across the deck to lock it back up.

Riku’s eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open.

“I told you he was a King,” Sora said.

And that earnt him one of those rare, beautiful laughs.

The laugh was infectious, and Sora found himself joining in. They stood, balanced either side of the cabin and laughed, as the rain started coming down harder around them. Sora's stomach hurt from the effort and his face felt pleasantly warm.

It was proper rain now, sitting on top of Sora's coat in drops and soaking into his breeches.

"Is it too late to join them?" Riku asked.

Sora clapped him on the shoulder as he stepped forward. "You want to be a sailor, don't you?"

"I'm changing my mind."

"A pirate, then."

That laugh was harder to hear, more of a chuckle, as Riku followed him back up the stairs. His hair was starting to stick to the sides of his neck in silver strands and Sora's gaze stuck there. Stuck on the way Riku's shirt was clinging to him already. A fat raindrop ran down the side of his neck, over a strand of hair and nestled into his collarbone.

He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the wheel. There were more important things to worry about than the pretty boy in front of him.

The rain quickly came down faster and harder, until it was falling sheets all around them and they were thoroughly soaked. A river ran from the peak of Sora's captain's hat that was dripping onto his hands. It was cold too - he was practically frozen to the wheel. The wind stung his cheeks until he thought he was turning to ice.

It was hard to tell how long they had been sailing through the water when the thunder started. It sounded like the rumble of a stomach at first.

But then there was a brief flash through the clouds.

He gripped the wheel as hard as he could with soaked hands, fingers slipping off of the wood.

There was a hand on his shoulder at the next thunderclap. Riku's hand appeared on the rail, as if he was protecting Sora from half the rain. It was a romantic thought, if he stopped to think about it. In actuality, it was something more instinctual. A way of saying 'I'm here, let's work together.'

The prow cut through the waves and the rain determinedly, even though the boat was starting to rock. They surged up and down, but the rhythm was easy to conquer. It was easy to anticipate the ship pointing up, then down and adjusting the balance accordingly.

Riku yelled something that Sora couldn't hear over the crash of the waves and the thunder and the rain ceaselessly beating against the deck.

Lightning turned the world from grey to yellow. Grey to yellow. Grey to yellow.

How long had they been sailing? Were they reaching the eye of the storm yet?

The waves increased in velocity. Sora finally slipped, clutching onto the wheel as he was thrown backwards. Riku's firm grip pulled him back as it plummeted back downwards.

They slid over the deck as they headed further and further into the dark clouds, until they were both at the wheel, both pulling each other back from the violent wind.

Then it happened.

A burst of lighting came down right in front of the boat, splattering sea water over the deck and knocking into them as a wave. It turned the boat of course, made the masts tilt diagonally.

There was a terrible moment the boat teetered like that.

Then it crashed upright again.

"Sora!" Riku roared in his ear, pointing to the port-hand side of the boat.

He saw it, still illuminated as though it had captured the electricity. A huge sea chest.

His heart roared as loudly as Riku. This was it. This was it.

"Drop anchor! We'll swim for it!" He could barely hear himself, though his throat hurt from screaming.

"I can't swim!"

"You can't-" He stared at Riku, wild-eyed. Now he was scared - really scared - he'd brought a boy who couldn't swim on a mission that would destroy their boat.

"Take the helm!" he screamed, as though everything was under control. He jammed his hat onto Riku's head, and in the next moment he was falling down the stairs. He scrambled, mostly on all fours to the mast, picking up a sodden rope and tying it around his waist. The rope slipped. His hands slipped. Everything was slipping.

Riku was saying something else, but he couldn't hear.

"When I have it, reel me in!" he screamed, though he doubted his words travelled far enough.

It was hard to get a running leap off the side when the boat was tilting dangerously upwards again, but his hands found the railing he flung himself overboard.

And barely realised when he was underwater. It was just as wet, just as cold, just as hard to move through as the storm above it.

The light was still there and he kicked his way through it. He couldn't tell if he was on the surface or underneath it, there was salt-water in his mouth either way.

It was far, even as the waves were pulling him away, his fingers closed around the handle on the side. It was heavy. Much heavier than a chest should be.

He opened his mouth to signal to Riku to pull in the line and got a stomach full of sharp water. As he gagged, he tugged the rope.

By some miracle it began pulling him.

He wasn't sure of the direction he was headed. All he did was cling to the chest and try to stay afloat.

Riku was strong, even if he couldn't swim.

It felt like forever - as though he'd been stuck in this saltwater nightmare forever - when his head smashed against wood.

It stung as much as the cold, but at least it brought the chest against his stomach.

He clung onto it in a death grip with one hand, the other clutching at wood desperately as they made the slow climb up the edge of the ship. It was rocking so much now that he all but fell onto the deck like a fish.

He kept a tight hold of the chest as he skidded across the planks.

There was another hand on it. Riku was helping him tug it over to the cabin. It slid the rest of the way as the ship lurched back up.

Sora leant against the door, panting and coughing up seawater. There was an overhang that kept them safe from the rain, if not the salt spray for just a moment.

Riku was breathing heavily too, staring at Sora as if he was mad. Maybe he was.

But they still had to get out of this storm.

*

The storm seemed never ending. It got to the point where Riku wondered if it followed the chest, and they would never be free of it.

But the thunder did start to fade away. The lightning slowed. The rain petered out into a trickle, and then stopped altogether.

They emerged from the water filled nightmare into the last golden dregs of evening. The sky was bruised purple and blue and gold.

It was still freezing.

Riku's limbs were shivering. He couldn't remember when they had begun shivering and he couldn't imagine them not shivering. He couldn't remember not having water running down his face or his hair plastered to him. He couldn't remember what it felt like not to be gripping on to Sora's shoulder, riding out the waves and trying not to throw the contents of his stomach up.

Now that the sea was calm, he felt wobbly. Like he was off-balance. His heart was still racing so loudly in his ears that it felt like he could still hear the rain. Still feel it against his skin if he tried hard enough.

Sora leant away from the wheel, back against Riku’s arm. He was quivering too. His hair looked almost black and hung over his face. He looked up, rain running down his cheeks like tears and his eyes were blue – impossibly blue. After staring at the grey storm clouds and the grey sea for so long it was like seeing the sky for the first time.

And he was grinning. That was just as blinding.

It wasn’t clear which of them moved first. But suddenly Sora was pressed against his chest and he was pressing Sora to his chest and they were just there – holding each other in a death grip. They were alive. They were alive and the ship was still afloat and there would be a tomorrow.

By the time Sora pulled away, Riku’s heart was almost back to normal. He felt warmer too, but that was more from the realisation that hugging – Sora was hugging him. He was hugging Sora. They were hugging each other and he should have pulled away long ago. He shouldn’t have let this happen.

Panic was curling the back of his throat by the time that he realised there was no one around. No one could see him. He wouldn’t get in trouble for it.

“Thank you for taking care of my hat.” Sora reached up and tugged it back off of Riku’s head. He was still staring at him, still slightly stunned, his arms just over Sora’s waist.

“W-well.” His teeth were chattering too. “You are the Captain.”

He received another grin. Sora clapped him on the shoulder, just hard enough to sting.

“Good show, Master Riku. You can be called a veteran of the sea now.”

Riku heard himself give a shaky laugh, but his voice was far away.

And Sora was already moving away, tumbling down the stairs yet again in his hate to get down there. Riku followed, gripping the bannister carefully and taking his time.

Sora was hauling the chest away from the door of the cabin. He bent to examine it.

It was a strange thing, rounder than any chest Riku had ever seen, with golden gilt edges. It was a pattern of flowers that traced up the side, weaving into one another. The wood itself seemed almost as red as the Highwind’s hull.

And of course, there was a huge, gold padlock on the thing.

“So we can’t get in,” Riku said.

“Oh, we can get in. I have a key.”

“How did you get that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I’m starting to broaden my horizons.”

But Sora just shook his head and ran his hands over the edge of the chest. Gold – it was solid gold lining it.

“Is this a good time to say that the box part of Pandora’s box is actually a mistranslation, and it was actually a jar?”

“Look at you.” Sora grinned up at him, cheeks still raw from the cold. “Clever enough for Harrow, aren’t you?”

Which just made Riku’s stomach clench tightly in on itself.

Sora opened the door to the cabin, and immediately Donald flew out again, with ruffled feathers. This time, though, his tail was wagging and he was leaping up at Sora. His quacks were slower, though just as frequent.

The duck was caught in mid-air, and Sora brought him up to face height. Donald’s beak checked him over, as though looking for any damage. When he was satisfied, he rested his head on Sora’s shoulder, still quacking and wagging his tail.

Sora soothed down Donald’s feathers, smiling and murmuring that it was okay, he was okay.

Goofy ran out of the door too, pressing himself against Sora’s legs and panting. He leant down, letting Goofy rest his head on his other shoulder and putting an arm around him.

It was incredible. They all seemed to really care for each other. A dog, a duck and a boy.

Then a small, black shape came running out of the cabin too. It climbed up the side of the chest until it was sat on top of it, and Riku recognised a bedraggled looking King Mickey. He blinked up at him, then tilted his head to the side and started cleaning his ears.

“Hey,” Riku murmured, feeling foolish. This was a mouse. He was talking to a mouse. He held out his fingers, instead, and Mickey sniffed them. “You okay down here?”

The mouse climbed onto his hand, and he still cringed at the feeling of those tiny hands on his bare skin. But Mickey was looking at him with such bright eyes that he could ignore it. He climbed underneath the cuff of Riku’s sleeve, pressing himself into the warm wrist. If he was a cat, Riku was sure he would be purring.

Sora had to carry both the huge dog and the duck into the cabin with him, reappearing with a large, key in his hand. Riku had never seen a key with such a strange ridge to it before.

But Sora paused as he crouched in front of the chest, the key hovering above the lock. Donald and Goofy, either side of him, stared impatiently.

“What’s wrong?” Riku leant down too, though it meant being uncomfortably close to Goofy, who managed to stink of wet dog despite being dry.

“It’s just,” Sora faltered. “This chest is meant to have hope in it. That’s what all of the legends say about it. That it contains hope. What if – what if I open it and…it’s empty?”

Riku thought about that. “You know, it would be a lot easier to comfort you if I knew what you were looking for.”

“I’m looking for…” Sora ran a finger over the lock. Donald pecked at the back of his hand in either impatience or encouragement. “A sign.”

Which was just as vague, honestly.

Goofy nuzzled Sora’s hand too, and he jerked the key into the hole.

It twisted easily, but it took both of them straining on the lid to be able to get it open. (King Mickey escaped from Riku’s shirt and watched all of this from the side lines.)

Riku almost dropped the lid again when he saw what was curled up inside the huge chest.

It was a girl.

A sleeping girl with sun kissed skin and hair so impossibly blonde that it shone like moonlight. She was curled up, barefoot, in just a white dress that showed ankles – shins – knees. Riku didn’t think he’d ever seen so much of a girl’s body before.

Girl’s seemed to be shaped very much like boys. He couldn’t see the excitement over it. Apart from the bump beneath her collarbones, she looked just like anyone else.

Well, it still seemed like she was shining, which was – different.

He looked to Sora. Who was staring into the chest with just as much amazement, his eyebrows pinched together as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“Is this a sign?” Riku asked. Dreaming. He must have been dreaming. He must have died in the storm and this was – death?

The girl stirred in her sleep, eyes moving beneath dark lashes.

“I don’t know,” Sora replied. He reached out a hand, as though to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear, then drew it away.

It was Riku who reached in, feeling his gut twist as he tried to get his hands underneath her body to lift her out. She was warm – impossibly warm, dry – and incredibly light. He lifted her with ease, letting her head flop against his shoulder as he stood.

He carried her into the cabin and Sora followed, holding back Goofy with one hand and still holding Donald in the other, watching as Riku lowered the girl into his hammock. She stirred again, her breath hitched, and then she kept on sleeping.

Sora put his hat down on the table. He was still soaked, both of them were, and they were making puddles on the wooden boards.

“We’ll let her sleep.” Sora’s voice was soft. He was staring at his hands like they would give him the answer.

“What is she?”

Sora shook his head. “I don’t know what the right question to ask is. I don’t know whether we should be asking ‘who is she?’” He paused again, speaking haltingly, as though he had forgotten that Riku was there –

“And why does she look like who I’m trying to find?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Most men in the navy actually couldn't swim around this time.   
> Thank you for all of the lovely comments! Honestly - thank you so much for leaving feedback - I can't tell you how motivating it is! (I didn't mean to guilt trip anyone but I really do appreciate it!)  
> The plot thickens! I'm writing pretty far ahead and I'm just super pumped to unravel all of the /story/ story.  
> I hope you enjoyed - please do leave comments below and I'll see you next week! xx


	5. The Girl

The Girl

They changed into dry clothes, but Riku still felt the salty sting of the waves in his skin. He couldn’t get rid of that feeling. His hair was clogged with it too. But they didn’t have the fresh water to spare to wash more than their faces, and even then, Riku hadn’t wanted to disturb the mysterious sleeping girl.

Instead, they dropped anchor, and were sat in the bow of the ship. The bow sprit had been snapped off, and the foremast was drooping. They’d also lost the crow’s nest in the storm, and half a sail. Apparently, they could still make do.

Sora was frowning and staring up at the dusk sky, waiting for the stars to appear so that he could figure out how turned around they had gotten in the storm. He had star charts spread out in front of him and was tapping a pencil against his lips as he waited impatiently.

Riku was sat with his back to the rail. King Mickey had made a home in his hair and he was trying not to think about that. Tiny paws in his tangled hair. Not that he had time to – there were a thousand other things running through his mind.

“Did you know we would find…her?” he asked.

“No.”

“Are you going to tell me who she looks exactly like?”

Sora finally looked back from the heavens, his mouth a firm line. “No.”

It was starting to get at Riku – that he wasn’t told anything at all. But then again, it was hardly like he had been forthcoming with Sora, either. If he wanted to get information, he had to give it up. That was the way things seemed to work on this ship.

So, he played the words over and over in his head before he said them, just to make sure that they were right. To make sure they were worth something.

“When I was twelve, I fell down a flight of stairs and fractured my spine.” As Riku spoke, Sora watched his face intently. Too intently. It made him look away. “My hair went white overnight.”

“You fell?” Sora repeated.

“I’m – clumsy.” It was what he had always been told, so it must have been true.

“We just sailed through a near on hurricane, and you didn’t fall. You stumbled, but you didn’t fall. _I_ fell. Several times. You don’t strike me as a clumsy person.”

It was like he _knew._ Like he had a sixth sense, or could just see into Riku’s mind. He ran his finger along the line of the planks. “Are you a clumsy person?”

“No.” Sora’s voice was soft. It sounded like the crash of the waves around them. “But I know a lot of people who were.”

“I wasn’t pushed.” It didn’t sound believable, even to Riku. “But I was – running – I shouldn’t have been, I wasn’t allowed to, the house – she only grabbed my arm to stop me. It was an accident.”

“Is that how you remember it?”

He looked up at Sora. He was sat crossed legged, the dusk turning him into shades of grey and dark blue, just like the night they had met. It was more like talking to a fae than a boy.

Riku pulled his legs more tightly against his chest. “That’s how I remember it.”

“Why were you running?” Sora pressed, still in that soft voice. A part of Riku knew that he meant well – that Sora was the one that could be trusted, but it made him cringe away. No, that was the part that no one asked about. That was the question that picked the perfectly rehearsed story apart. “Riku, why were you running?”

“Because I was in trouble.” He could barely hear himself, now, either. His voice sounded raspy. It was like Sora had some kind of power – as long as Riku was looking him in the eye, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. From unravelling years of practice.

“Were you?”

“I had –” What had he done? He couldn’t remember. It was something – it had been something that had made terror spread through every part of him, filling him until it almost hurt. It was terror that had made him run. “I don’t know, but I didn’t want – I was in trouble to begin with and I didn’t want to be…there was a…”

“Cupboard?”

Riku tightened in on himself even more, until his knees felt like they were breaking through his ribs. His heart was pounding. This wasn’t how it was meant to go.

“She was trying to stop me from getting hurt,” he whispered.

Sora finally relented. He heaved a large breath and looked back up at the sky, when he spoke, it was in that same small, soft voice.

“I was born in Havana. Cuba,” he said. “I don’t know who my parents were. No one really kept an eye on me. But I had a friend. We used to play on the beach together. And when I was old enough to work on a ship, she would always be there. Waiting for me. She was…the reason I wanted to come home. I wanted to get enough money for us to get our own ship – go wherever we wanted to go.”

It took Riku longer than it should to realise that he was feeling a sting of jealousy. Someone who had known Sora when he was young – grown up with him.

A _girl._ That was the sticking point. Sora had a girl who he wanted to come home to. It made him feel foolish.

“So, are you trying to get back to her?” he asked, hoping the jealousy – the hunger to know anything more about this boy didn’t show through.

Sora looked back down, and for once his eyes were completely focused. “She went missing. Three years ago. I came back home and according to everyone she had just – walked into a cave down by the sea one day as though she was possessed…I searched them all for her – over and over and she wasn’t there. She’d just…disappeared. But there was a note. She’d left a note for me, in our hide out.”

“You mentioned that before.”

“It was a riddle. Maybe I got it wrong. But I was sure that it meant that in three years, three months and three days, there would be a storm. _The_ storm that brought Pandora’s Box – Davy Jones’ chest – whatever all of the stories said was out there. A storm on a blue moon. That’s tonight.”

Riku had unfurled as he had listened, leaning forward to hear better.

“But that’s – she’s not –”

“She looks just like Kairi,” Sora murmured. “But she had red hair – bright red hair.”

Kairi. Even her name was pretty. Pretty name with pretty hair. There was that sting again that Riku pushed to the side. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he and Sora –

“Is that why you left England?” Sora asked, suddenly. “Because you’re clumsy?”

The suddenness of the question caught Riku off-guard. No doubt it was meant to. He found himself replying before he could think it through and hide some of the truth. “One of the reasons. It’s definitely why I can’t go back. Not now.”

“Better hope we’re going in the right direction, then.” Sora frowned up at the sky, as though he could will the stars into view. “A clumsy Whig – that’s all there was?”

“Is that not enough?” His voice was testy. Careful.

Sora leant forward then, his hands on the deck between them like two dark starfish. He was still frowning, and it made Riku’s stomach squirm. It was scary, when he was serious like this.

“You overheard my conversation with Captain Barbossa, which was foul play on your part. Now you know that I like lads as much as lasses.”

He might as well have slapped Riku across the face. No one had ever said it so directly – so normally, as if they were talking about what meat they prefer with a roast.

“And since you were eavesdropping.” Sora seemed to be leaning even closer. Riku was pinned against the back of the ship, with nowhere to go. “It’s only fair you return the favour.”

It didn’t make sense – Sora had a girl – Sora had a girl he wanted to go home to, and yet he was so determined to find out who Riku was. What Riku was. His face was warm. He couldn’t tell if he was imagining Sora’s breath fanning against his cheeks, but the thought didn’t help. There was nowhere to go and no way to slip out of the demand. That was what he told himself.

But there was a small – maybe not so small – part of him that wanted to say it. It wanted to be truthful, because Sora’s world seemed to have a place for it. Aqua had high romances with French ladies and no one batted an eyelash. They had only been angry that Sora had said Riku had gotten away – not any of the rest.

Maybe he didn’t have to run away from it all.

As he opened his mouth, there was a creak. They both looked to the other side of the ship, where the cabin door was opening. As always, Donald and Goofy sloped out of the opening to lounge about the ship.

The girl was standing there, looking more elfin than ever in the dusk. But at least she had stopped glowing.

They both leapt up, away from each other and across the ship.

“You’ll catch your death out here – let me find you a coat.” Sora was flapping his arms like a mother hen when the girl opened her mouth –

“Sora.”

He froze. His eyes were wide and his face had gone a few shades paler than usual.

“How do you know that?” There was a desperation in his voice that made Riku’s chest hurt. He was staring at this girl like she was the answer of all of his problems – everything was riding on her shoulders. But she just looked lost and confused.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was soft and gentle. It reminded Riku of a calm sea running across the shore.

Sora’s face was unreadable. Or rather, there were too many emotions at war with each other to read it clearly.

“You must be hungry,” Riku said. His hand hovered above the girl’s bare shoulder. Surely, he couldn’t touch her there. Not her bare skin. “Let’s get you something to eat and drink.”

“Aye,” Sora said. “I’ll – find Little Chief, and the better rum.”

He crossed over to the entrance of the hold, walking ever so slightly stiffly. Riku guided the girl back inside without touching her, as though he was trying to guide the wind. Well, he thought, they did find her in a _chest_ in a _storm_.

It was dark in the cabin, so he lit the collection of candles on the table. He found that she was staring at him with impossibly wide, blue eyes. The same impossible blue as Sora’s. She was pretty – objectively, Riku decided. Her lashes were dark and long, her nose slender, her lips full.

It was a shame that he preferred Sora. Preferred his tanned skin and hair that resembled a sleeping animal more than anything else. Preferred his wink and his laugh.

He wished he had been able to get it out. To tell him – tell anyone and not risk everything.

“You I don’t know,” the girl said, examining him with scrutiny.

“My name is Riku,” he replied. “Do you know who you are?”

“My name is Naminé, if that’s what you mean.” She paused, concentrating hard. “But I’m afraid I can’t say who I am, because I’m not sure myself.”

She was so small, Riku realised. She was a good head and a bit smaller than him, and half the width. There was a small, lost, confused girl in front of him and he had no idea what to say. He’d never even been _unchaperoned_ around a woman.

“I’m sorry, this is – well, unorthodox – this whole thing is strange and – I’m sorry, this must be confusing for you. It must be – horrible to wake up on a boat in the middle of the ocean with two people you’ve never met.” He was rambling, but he was standing alone with a barely clothed girl and he wasn’t sure what else to do.

Naminé crossed over to one of the chairs, running her hand over the back of it.

“How can it be horrible when it is all I remember?” she asked.

Which stunned Riku. “But – you know your name, and Sora’s name.”

She shook her head, her blonde hair cascading in a shower down her shoulder. “Knowing things is different to remembering things.”

That was when she spotted the seal sat on the table and picked it up, running it between her fingers and staring at the bottom of it.

Sora came back into the cabin, a bottle tucked under one arm and balancing a collection of damp looking dried meats and biscuits under his chin.

“There’s a slight leak in the bilge,” he said. Depositing the food on the table.

“There’s a _leak_?”

“A slight one,” Sora repeated. “It’s easily patched until we make dock. And all of the best ships have bilge water. It’s what keeps the bilge rats away.”

However slight the thing, panic was crawling at Riku’s guts. He didn’t want to point out that they already had a rat on board – and that it was as valued a member of the crew as he was.

“This is Naminé,” he managed to choke out, gesturing to the girl.

“And you didn’t even offer her a coat.” Sora tutted, peered around on the floor and then kicked one up to himself. He placed it around Naminé’s shoulders as though it was natural. As though he wasn’t disappointed at all. He was back to being happy-go-lucky with his crooked grin. “Bad show, Master Riku.”

Naminé smiled slightly, and pulled the coat closer around her. “Is this yours?”

She held the seal up. Sora nodded, and put it back where it had been carefully.

“Where did it come from?” Riku asked. In truth, he had forgotten about it, but now that he saw it again he remembered just how out of place it was on this ship.

Sora shrugged. “Had it since I was a kid.”

Since that was all he said, Riku decided to sink into the other chair, his mind still focused on the fact that water was coming _into_ the ship.

“What do you remember?” Sora asked, sinking into a crouch in front of her.

“Waking up.”

Sora glanced at Riku. He stared helplessly back.

“You were in a chest – a treasure chest? We pulled you onboard during a storm.”

Naminé stayed very still, staring at the candles in front of her. The flame reflected in her eyes.

“So we can assume that you saved me,” she said, as though by saying it out loud the pieces would become clear.

“We don’t know that,” Sora said. “There was probably a reason that you were in the middle of that storm. And things in the middle of storms usually have strings attached.”

Naminé stayed quiet for so long that Riku wondered if she had forgotten to speak at all. But then she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.” She looked down at Sora, her pink lips parted. “Did I disappoint you?”

To Riku’s surprise again, Sora shook his head.

“More like worried me.” He sat back on his heels. “I’m scared we’ve made you hit your head and given you brain damage.”

Naminé’s attention turned back to the flames. Her eyes followed the movement as though she couldn’t understand what she was seeing.

“I don’t know if creatures found in storms can have brain damage,” she said.

Which actually made Riku smile a little.

“You’re not a creature,” he said. “You’re a girl.”

“Hm.” Naminé’s large eyes half-closed. “That can’t be the wholly true. Girls don’t survive in treasure chests.”

“Well, part of you is a girl and that makes you not a creature,” Sora said. The distinction was important, but neither of them knew why.

“You said, you know things, not remember them,” Riku said. “Do you know anything else?”

Sora caught on, light twinkling in his eyes again. “Do you know the name Kairi?”

Naminé nodded. “I know Kairi.”

Sora was almost bouncing off of the floor. “What do you know about her? What do you know about Kairi?”

“She had to be safe.” Naminé spoke as if she was in a trance. “There were people, who wanted her, so she made herself safe. She is in a safe place.”

“Where? Where is this safe place, Naminé? How do we get there?”

Naminé opened her mouth, and then she blinked. She continued blinking rapidly, and frowned. She even had a pretty frown.

“I’m sorry. I know that I know but I can’t think. I can’t – remember.”

If Sora was heartbroken, he didn’t show it. Instead he shook his head and stood up.

“No, I’m sorry Naminé. You’ve just woken up – just arrived into this world and we’re already pestering you. Take your time, have something to eat.”

“I’m sorry,” Naminé said again, but nodded. She hesitantly reached out for one of the crackers, then something caught her eye. She stared at Riku, like he was the one they’d found glowing in a treasure chest. “You have a mouse in your hair.”

“Yes, that’s King Mickey,” Riku said before he could think – he was developing a habit of doing that.

And then he realised how crazy that sounded.

He’d only been on this ship for three days, but already he was losing his mind.

*

Kairi was safe. Kairi was safe. Kairi was safe.

The words had lifted years of worry from Sora’s shoulders. He felt a whole stone lighter. Kairi was safe, and they were on their way to rescue her. He’d get her back. It was possible.

After he repaired the leak as best as he could with only a few planks of wood and a handful of nails on hand, he checked the stars and reset their course. Well, the course needed resetting anyway. Now that they had a leak, he’d decided it was best to stop off at Morocco for repairs. They might have been able to make it all the way to New York, but by the time they got there, news of Riku might have gotten there ahead of them. Morocco was safer.

They had strung their hammocks in the crew’s quarters instead, at the other end of the ship, to give Naminé some privacy. Though she had looked nervous – terrified really, when they had said goodnight. Riku had grazed his fingers against her shoulder in some semblance of a pat, and she had looked for a moment like she was going to cling onto his hand and never let it go.

But then Goofy had nuzzled against her leg. She scratched him behind the ear and he leant into the touch. She had seemed better for that.

She would be fine. With Donald and Goofy to take care of her.

“Morocco?” Riku asked. He was in his hammock, swinging it gently.

“Aye,” Sora said. He was thinking about Riku’s hand grazing Naminé’s shoulder – Riku’s hand around his shoulders earlier that day – and trying not to feel jealous. “Casablanca, Morocco. We need to get this repaired. Should make it there in about a week.”

“That’s not very far.”

“I do apologise, my lord.” Sora let sarcasm drip from his tongue. “But I don’t see how we’ll get very far without a bowsprit.”

Riku frowned as him, then turned back to the ceiling. King Mickey was curled up on his chest, asleep. They never seemed to go anywhere without each other now.

“Besides,” Sora said. “It’s a Spanish colony – they won’t care about some English school boy.”

“And you can speak Spanish, can you?”

“Si. I lived in Cuba, remember? And speaking of things I can do that you can’t-”

“Oh no.”

“-You _can’t_ swim?”

“Lots of men who join the navy can’t swim.”

“Aye, I’m sure that works well for them.”

“I’m on a _boat_ , I’m not swimming to Morocco.” Riku sounded exasperated.

Sora just shook his head. He couldn’t understand it. Swimming was as just like walking – it was just as natural and he couldn’t imagine not being able to. There was a whole world completely blocked off to Riku that he didn’t know about.

That would have to be fixed as soon as they made port. At least it was warm in Morocco – Sora was already sick of the British weather.

Though Britain had brought him Riku, which was either a blessing or a curse. A blessing because they just _worked_ together. It was like he had known him all his life – they had fallen into an easy back and forth banter, that was, when Riku wasn’t too flustered. And when he was too flustered, Sora was treated to posh stammers and pink cheeks. He was treated to someone who understood. Impossibly – because they came from such opposite worlds – Riku _understood_ Sora. At least, partly – and that was more than anyone other than Kairi had done.

And Sora understood Riku. Now that he had revealed just what his home life was like, Sora understood him. Understood the way he talked around a subject and had stayed reserved all this time – until the storm had pushed them together. There had been something about Riku curled into himself as he spoke about the accident that had made Sora’s chest ache. It had made it hard to breathe.

He was desperate to clear that look from Riku’s eyes. He couldn’t explain why, but he needed to bandage those wounds and help them heal into scars. It never took much for Sora to take in a waif or stray – it was how he ended up with a ship full of animals, but this was different. This was urgent. This was because, yes, Riku was pretty, but he was also gentle and caring – yet witty and sharp when he needed to be. Because he made Sora genuinely laugh, instead of the false one he was so used to putting on not to worry anyone. Because he made Sora’s stomach and chest flutter as though it was full of hatching butterflies.

And that was why Riku was a curse. Because here they were, stuck in that horrible question of, ‘are you queer, sir?’ And Riku wasn’t ready to reply. But he had also let his gaze linger on Sora just a moment longer than it needed to constantly. They were stuck in this no man’s land and it was driving him insane.

“About – about earlier.” It was like Riku could read his mind. He flopped his head to the side to see him, but Riku was still staring at the ceiling, his face in the shadows. “It was – that was the main reason I was going to be expelled.”

Sora stayed quiet. He tried to breath as quietly as possible, as though breathing loudly would spook Riku like a horse.

“I’d – I’d been caught a couple of times, with a couple of different boys. Though they always spun it so that – it looked like it was just me. That was why I was going to be sent home.”

“And you couldn’t go home.” Sora let the words drip from his tongue as the pieces slid into place.

Riku nodded. He took a breath like it pained him, and then closed his eyes. “So, we’re even now.”

They were. But that didn’t stop Sora’s head from racing. So Riku was, then. He was, but he wasn’t going to notice Sora’s attempts to coax him out of his shell. He was, but now they had Naminé onboard, and didn’t that just make everything more complicated?

As if anything about Naminé was simple. He had been expecting a map. Or a compass. Or – anything that wasn’t a real, live human.

He wished Terra were here. Terra or Aqua would know what to do. But they would be leaving England as soon as they made port in Morocco – there wasn’t any way to reach them now.

“I was lucky,” Sora said, just to make it a little more even. “Aqua was the one who saw me kiss a lad for the first time. And he was the one who started it. I guess I was the one who continued it.”

“Aqua seems nice.”

“She just laughed about how awkward we both looked. Then she told me to be careful. There’s only certain people you can trust with it.”

There was a silence.

“How do you know who?” Riku asked.

“It’s – more like a feeling. You just – get a feeling off of someone. That they’re – like you.”

Another silence. So long that Sora could hear the ship creaking beneath them.

“You’re the first person I told. Properly told, I mean.”

He felt a flutter in his chest. Trust. That was a good start. To any friendship – any relationship.

“I’m honoured, Master Riku.”

He could hear Riku’s smirk in the way he said it: “it’s my pleasure, Captain Sora.”

And despite the fact that they were nowhere near closer to what they had been looking for – despite the fact that they had nearly capsized, nearly drowned in a storm – Sora smiled to himself.

He was sure that he fell asleep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I know they're fourteen in the first game, but I'm ageing them up to sixteen/seventeen, because - it just works better for this story.  
> In terms of sailing times, it is a rough estimate. I did try and calculate them but I write, not do maths, and I ended up getting muddled.  
> And I think that's the only notes I have right now. I can say the next chapter will bring some new faces (and I am excited! For it!)  
> Thank you so so much for all of the support!! It literally means the world to me and I can't begin to explain how happy I am that people are reading this and liking it!!  
> (Edit: Sorry lads - I thought this had gone up on Thursday! It saved it as a draft but never posted it! I'll be back on Thursday!)  
> I hope you also enjoyed this chapter, please let me know - I'm really enjoying Namine uvu - and I'll see you next week! xx


	6. The Drawing

The Drawing

This was the part that Sora loved. The days out at open sea. The sky and the sea and nothing else for miles around. He’d love it more if his ship was whole. Every time he saw the bent mast he winced with guilt. Yen Sid would not have been happy to see his beloved ship in such a state. For some reason, he felt as if the man would know. As if he would be waiting for them in port, shaking his head.

At least now they had become a crew of three. When Riku wasn’t adjusting the ropes (Sora helped, when he could be ‘spared’ from the helm), he was up by Sora’s side, leaning against the railing and staring into the wind. It made his silver hair fly out behind him in the wind. Sora loved that silver – it was like he had been blessed by moonlight.

Naminé sat on the other side, her hair mirroring Riku’s. She’d become something of a duckling to him – Sora was trying not to feel jealous. More often than not, she checked his reaction to things, before she formed her own. It didn’t help that she was particularly fond of King Mickey. Her eyes would light up whenever she saw him, and she was obsessed with putting her finger on his front paws, “like they were holding hands.”

At least there was someone around who was smaller than Sora. And she was _cute_ as well – just like a little sister. He had to keep thinking of her like that. She wasn’t Kairi.

She just looked exactly the same.

Which had certainly made it hard to not be disappointed.

“What’s Morocco like?” Her voice was still quiet – still like holding your ear against a seashell to hear the sea.

“Warm,” Sora replied. “Much warmer than here.”

“Oh, good. The wind is much too mean here.”

Which made him laugh. He nodded at Riku. “See? Finally, someone around her with some _sense_.”

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t grow up in the Caribbean.” Riku’s eyes narrowed with his sarcasm. “But England isn’t _that_ bad. We have – we have scones, and cricket and –“

“And a third of the discovered world under your control.”

“You can’t _control_ the world.” Naminé frowned. She still wore that white dress, with a large overcoat she’d found below deck over the top. As a particularly strong wind blew, she buried herself further into it.

“Tell that to the English, and the East India Trading Company.” Sora tipped his hat back to better block out the watery sunlight.

“There’s a lot of things we wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the East India Trading Company.” Though Riku was hardly bristling with indignation. It sounded as though he was just repeating information – like he’d been made to do his timetables.

“And there’s a lot of pirates who would still be alive if there wasn’t the East India Trading Company.” Sora replied. “Naminé, you’re born from the sea, do you think anyone can claim any part of it as their own?”

“Of course not.”

Sora smirked at Riku, who shook his head at him, though he was smirking too. As if to say ‘I can’t believe you’d have the gall to manipulate a girl who’s three days old.’

“Born of the sea?” Naminé repeated. She looked down at herself. “I suppose I am.”

“Like Aphrodite,” Riku said. “She was born from sea foam when her father was cast into the sea.”

“I didn’t think a good Christian like yourself would believe in such nonsense.” Sora was learning that he couldn’t resist teasing Riku. There was just something about the way he clung to that cultured voice that made him want to poke a stick at the bear.

“We’ve already established that I’m not a good Christian,” Riku shot back. “And once you see lightning materialise a chest with a girl trapped inside, you start to open your mind a little.”

Sora found himself laughing. Laughing freely – that was the best part about having a crew that you liked. And it had been a rare thing.

“And as soon as we dock in Morocco, I’m teaching the pair of you to swim.”

Riku grimaced. “Must you?”

“Is there a problem, Master Riku?” He could feel a smirk tugging at his lips, and he let his eyes slide over to the taller boy. Let his eyebrows raise so that Riku glanced away. He was torn between enjoying this and hating it. Now that he knew the truth, he could push it – he could push this. And teasing Riku never seemed to get tiring.

And yet Naminé was right there. It wouldn’t be fun for her to witness _just_ how much Sora wanted to flirt.

“I never have any desire to be drenched in sea water again,” Riku said. “As soon as we make it to land, I am taking a bath, washing my hair and never going above deck again.”

Which only made Sora laugh again. Oh, he thought, he was getting that boy back in the ocean.

“But the sea is –“ Naminé paused, her eyes wide as though she was trying to pluck the right word from the sky. “Life. It’s – like a friend, carrying you to where you need to go.”

“Or drowning you,” Riku murmured.

“Only to feed the fish at the bottom.” She shook her head again. “ _Life_.”

Riku opened his mouth to argue, but then he stopped himself. His gaze softened, and Sora knew that feeling. There was just something about Naminé. She couldn’t be refused, in anything. She was certain, and when she was certain about something, she couldn’t be changed. And there was something beautiful in the way she was saying it.

He supposed this was what having a little sister felt like.

Naminé frowned, then, and leant back over the rail to stare at the sea. For a moment, Sora half expected dolphins to leap up and talk to her.

But then she turned back to them and asked, “how do we know I won’t turn into a mermaid in the water? Or dissolve into seafoam?”

The thought panicked them both into tugging her away from the edge.

They would not lose this little sister any time soon.

*

Riku felt like they’d been sailing forever.

And yet he didn’t mind it. If he was honest – he enjoyed this. They were in their own world that was full of blue and was beautiful. Just the three of them, and the animals, and nothing else. They were safe here – and he never wanted that safety to end.

When had he last felt this safe?

He was thankful for Naminé. She was the one who kept things with Sora at bay. He might still tease Riku and wink, and linger just a bit too long when he nudged him, but he didn’t dare go any further when she was around.

Riku couldn’t figure out if he wanted him to. Now that he had admitted it – here, where it was safe – he didn’t know how to continue. It still felt as though they would be caught. And he still couldn’t figure out if Sora was still joking – if he did, actually, love Kairi. If Riku was just something to occupy the time.

He would be used to that.

There was a much less rational part of him that couldn’t help returning the teasing. That enjoyed it all – enjoyed the way that his heart raced and his cheeks flushed. Because Sora was sunshine incarnate, and he had been living in the dark for so long.

Because he could hear Sora snoring in the hammock on the other side of the crew’s quarters and let himself imagine what it would be like to be next to him. To have that warmth next to him – Sora’s arms around him, head on his chest.

To wake up and be able to kiss Sora awake, basking in the smell of the sun and the sea. He’d make a small murmur, and wiggle himself back against Riku. Tighten his grip, but then maybe pepper kisses against Riku’s collarbone –

He tore himself from those thoughts whenever he could. Not going to happen. Couldn’t happen.

And not when Naminé was following Riku everywhere. She gave him time to think about it. To try and figure out just _why_ it couldn’t happen. Apart from society and law.

He stayed in the cabin with her one evening, because it was easier to keep all of those thoughts about Sora at bay then. And he had wanted to go through the charts and ledgers. They were a mess, to say the least – it was like a child’s approximation of what a ledger should look like. Almost every word was spelt wrong, and every letter was a different size to the one next to it.

So he took it on himself to write them out _sensibly_ , and the girl was fascinated.

“Why would you need to record it all down?” She was feeding titbits to the King. He’d abandoned Riku easily for the idea of a piece of crusty cheese – he tried not to be offended. Donald was sleeping on her lap, and her fingers danced across his feathers. If a duck could purr, he would be.

“In case somebody needs to know where we’ve been and what we’ve found out.” He was still trying to decipher if it was a four or an eight.

“Why would someone need to know?”

He rethought. “In case we need to know.”

Naminé tilted her head to the side, rosebud lips smiling down at the mouse in front of her. Traitor, Riku thought, as the King stood on his hind legs and washed his face.

“But surely you know where you’ve been and what you’ve found out,” she said.

“I’m not so sure Sora does.”

“He’s a lot more capable than he’d have you believe.” Naminé finally looked up then. “He’s a lot more capable than he believes, as well.”

Which was not as strange to hear as it should have been. Some part of Riku knew that there was more to Sora than he made out. He had seen that, when Sora had been stood like a child in trouble in front of Barbosa – when he had jumped headfirst into a stormy sea without a second thought – when they had dived into their childhoods and Sora had seemed – wise and sad. The complete opposite of how he always appeared.

“You’ve only known him for a few days more than I have,” Riku continued, scratching at the page, but not writing anything in particular.

“No, I don’t think so.” Now Naminé’s gaze was clouded again. “I think – I know that I’ve known him for a lot longer than this. I _know_ him.”

“Can you tell me what’s happening in his head?”

Naminé laughed. It sounded like a bell chiming. “No one can be sure of that.”

Which made Riku chuckle.

He paused when Naminé leant her elbows on the table, her hair falling dangerously close to the lit candles.

“What’s happening in your head, Riku?”

It caught him off-guard. He wondered for a moment, what to say – how much to say – what she wanted him to say.

“I still don’t know if running was the right thing to do,” he said. “I ran, but I didn’t stop to think about where I was running to, only what I was running from. Now I seem to be caught up in something…important. Someone else’s story, that I probably shouldn’t be in.”

Naminé blinked, then frowned. Her fingers kept stroking Donald, and the duck quacked in contentment.

“But if you’re here, then surely this is your story too?”

If Riku stopped to think about it, he realised it was actually simple logic. She wasn’t saying anything incredible, just plain, simple facts.

Turns out he needed more plain, simple facts.

This was his story, and he was turning it around.

He smiled to himself as he turned back to the ledgers. But then a thought occurred to him. Something to cheer Naminé up before he left for the night, because she always looked a little bit scared to be left in the dark on her own. Well, Riku could understand that.

He let the pencil sketch out a poorly drawn shape, but when he turned it to show her, Naminé’s face lit up in a grin.

“Donald!” She picked up the duck, pulling him from his slumber and trying to get him to look at the drawing. He blinked, bleary eyed, at anywhere but the paper. “So there _is_ a purpose behind it all.”

“Well, it’s not writing – it’s drawing, but-“

“Let me try.” She held out her hand to him, her jaw set determinedly.

Riku had no choice but to hand over the pencil.

She began drawing right away. But she also pulled the ledger away and covered the page with her hand as she did so. When Riku craned his neck to look she tugged it even closer.

“I’ll show you when I’m done, Riku.”

Sometimes she sounded like a Princess. Her tone was confident, clear and she knew what she wanted. He could believe that she was some Goddess that they’d found at sea and didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. And, Riku had to admit that she was cute. With her heart shaped face and long lashes, she was adorable. It was like saying no to a puppy.

His only choice was to raise his hands in mock surrender and wish her goodnight.

*

“Land ahoy!”

Sora probably didn’t need to yell it, because both members of his crew who cared were stood right by him, but there was a sense of satisfaction that came with it. He’d been the first one to spot land.

There was something feverish as he and Riku rushed to adjust the sails. (Naminé helped as best she could, but couldn’t keep a good grip on the rope.) There always was after days at sea. Finally getting to their destination – finally getting the Highwind fixed. It was exciting.

It was exciting until Naminé asked, “how do we know I won’t disappear as soon as I set foot on land?”

Which made Sora’s stomach jerk with panic. He looked to Riku, who shrugged. Neither of them knew the rules when it came to someone liked her.

Morocco approached – a cascade of amber, square houses stretching down into the sea. They were built into the cliffs like stairs for a giant, and palm trees dotted green through it all – like nature was trying to reclaim the whole thing.

It was early afternoon when they were close enough to start docking.

“You’ve been here before?” Riku asked. But he was pulling the sail in and it was hard not to focus on those biceps.

“Aye.” Sora forced himself to focus on his own sail.

“So, you remember where to go for repairs?”

“I don’t remember much of anything,” Sora admitted. “I remember having a good time, but that’s because I didn’t leave the taverns for a week.”

Riku gave him a look.

“This is a pirate ship, Riku, and I am a pirate. What did you expect?” He tied off the knot and re-adjusted his hat. “And we’ll have to stop by them, anyway.”

“Why?”

It was Sora’s turn to give him a look. “Money.”

They were safely docked within the half hour. Sora let Donald and Goofy down the gangplank first – they both looked more than relieved to be on solid ground again. Then he jumped down and offered his hand to Naminé. Riku was behind her, his hands hovering over her waist as though he was scared she was going to tumble any minute.

But she was sure footed, keeping her eyes on Sora’s and slipping her small hand into his when she was close enough. She stepped from the plank and onto the concrete dock.

And didn’t disappear.

He could hear Riku’s long sigh as he followed them both.

Then the mission began. Sora found himself at the head of the crew – his crew, he realised – as they headed into Casablanca. He was in charge of a crew. People were depending on him. That was a new and troubling development. It was enough to make his stomach cramp and his lungs refuse to work properly.

He began asking people for directions, and quickly ran into trouble. They frowned at him, and couldn’t quite understand what he was asking. After the third person shrugged and turned away, Riku raised his eyebrows.

“I thought you spoke Spanish,” he said.

“I _am_ speaking Spanish,” he snapped. The sun was in his eyes when he looked up at Riku. “I don’t see you being any help. Some good that Harrow education is.”

“I’m fluent in French and Latin-“

“Aye, now’s definitely the time for a bit of Homer.” It was hot and he should be happy about that, but it was making sweat trickle down his spine. He was tired, stressed and people were expecting him to be responsible. They were expecting something of him.

“Homer was Greek, which I’m not _as_ good at, but still passable.”

“Are you English?” A voice asked. They turned to find a tanned dock worker, arms full with a large crate. “You need any help?”

Sora elbowed Riku in the ribs, winding him enough so that he could speak first. “My crew and I are looking for a couple of repairs done.”

Riku elbowed him back, hard in the bicep.

The man looked over the three of them, Donald and Goofy and raised his eyebrows. Especially at Naminé’s strange ensemble. Sora had fashioned a petticoat for her to cover her legs, but she still stood out like a sore thumb. Riku stepped in front of her, shielding her from view.

“Aye – old Cid’ll help you out wi’ that. Two lefts down that way, a right and then down the stairs. You’ll see the sign from there. But he don’t come cheap.”

“Wouldn’t want them to be,” Sora said, tugging the rope he’d looped around Goofy’s neck and leading them the way the man had said. He felt eyes on his back for far longer than was polite. It was something he had been used to, but for some reason it felt strange now. Uncomfortable that someone was looking at him and his friends like a sideshow.

Cid’s shop was down a narrow stairwell cut into the side of the port. The walkway smelt of urine, and even when they were free of the cramped stone space, Sora could still smell it.

There was a row of shops set into the stone, sitting like trolls underneath a bridge. It was dark enough down here, that they all had their lamps outside lit. Cid’s shop had a large, fleur-de-lis shaped sign over it and diamonds cut into the wooden doors. There was an inviting glow from the inside, that the other buildings didn’t have. In fact, it looked neater than most of the others – wooden beams waxed and polished to hold it up.

“Are we sure about this?” Riku murmured, as Sora raised a hand to the door handle.

Sora smirked. He couldn’t help it. “Scared, Riku?”

“Should I not be?”

Sora opened the door and put on his widest smile. “Hola, amigo!”

The inside smelt of sawdust and smoke. A huge fire burned in a grate on one side of the room – a large pot was sat on top of it, though nothing was cooking inside it. On the far wall as an intricately embroidered tapestry – Sora could imagine it would be worth a fortune. So, what was it doing here?

The rest of the space was taken up with workshop equipment – a carpenter’s bench, tool racks, and a large collection of model ships. Fine ships, Sora noticed at a glance, if a little unorthodox.

A man was stood behind the carpenter’s bench. At their entrance, he had straightened up and put his hands on his hips, his brow furrowing. He was big, blonde hair sticking up behind goggles and a long toothpick held between his teeth.

He spoke in Spanish. “Can I help you?”

His voice was low and gruff, like a bear’s. He was frowning hard – trying to make himself look bigger and scarier. But another glance at the model ships revealed wheel-along toys and cups and balls too. Sora’s instincts told him that it was an all act – that this guy was in fact a big softy. It activated the annoying part of his brain – the ‘let’s see how far we can get before getting a clip round the ear’ part of his brain.

“I would have thought that was obvious,” he said, leaning against the doorframe of the shop. “You repair ships, we have one we need repaired.”

The man crossed his arms over his chest, still frowning and making the toothpick wave up and down.

"Where are you from, kid?"

That 'chamaco' irked Sora. He couldn't resist a dig of his own. "Havana, gramps."

"You sound like it."

"Excuse me?" Sora scowled at the man.

Riku was frowning at him, desperate to be updated on the situation and beside him, Naminé's eyes were wide.

The man just shrugged. "People don't speak Spanish here like that."

"I realised."

The man took a long breath, and looked the three of them up and down. "So why'd they send a kid to do the Captain's job?"

"I am the Captain."

The man laughed, loud and deep, but trailed off when he saw Sora's face. The smile tightened.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Can you fix the ship or not?” Sora pressed.

The man raised thick eyebrows at him. But then shrugged and uncrossed his arms.

“I can take a look.”

Sora nodded, stepping back out of the shop to let him through.

“He says he’ll take a look,” he said, to Riku and Naminé.

“And I can speak English, _chamaco_ ,” the man called over his shoulder.

Riku was smirking, so Sora elbowed him again. “Be quiet.”

The man kept a brisk pace back to their ship, and they hurried to keep up. It got to the point where Naminé had to carry Donald, and Sora was half-dragging Goofy across the plaza. He was insistent on sniffing every cobblestone he could.

When they eventually reached the Highwind, the man let out a long whistle.

“Sink me! What the heck’d you do to the poor thing?”

“We got caught in a storm,” Sora said.

Naminé frowned at him, and he pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded, but still looked troubled.

“I can fix it, easy. But it’ll cost you.” The man had his hands on his hips again, surveying the damage.

Sora turned back to him. “I never pay until the repairs are complete.”

“Aye, I bet you don’t. And then you’re free to sail away without paying at all.”

He scowled and mirrored the man’s stance. “Better than paying for a shoddy job.”

“Shoddy job? _Shoddy job?!_ I’ve been in this business for fifteen years, you upstart and never once have I had-“

“Cid! It’s been a while!” A new voice called.

No, a familiar voice.

And Sora turned to see a familiar man walking down the deck towards them. It had been a few years, but Leon still looked the same – same long brown hair and scar that ran across his nose. It should have marred his appearance, but it only gave him a rugged handsomeness. At the sight of him, he broke out into a smirk.

“And look who it is – the little lion himself,” Leon said.

“You know him?” Cid asked. He didn’t seem impressed.

“Sora was on my crew for a while.” Leon clapped a hand on his shoulder and he found himself grinning. Then he caught Riku’s eye – saw the raised eyebrow, and looked away again. “He’s not a bad sailor.”

“Bad enough to drive his ship into a storm.” Cid jerked his thumb at the sad looking Highwind.

Leon’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at Sora, who looked away at him too. He could sense Leon looking over Riku and Naminé. He put two and two together quickly.

“I think we need to talk.”

*

Within ten minutes, Leon had got them a booth in the tavern closest to the docks and a ten percent discount off of Cid’s usual rates. After some haggling, Cid and Sora had agreed to pay halfway through the repairs.

If Riku was honest, he wasn’t sure how to talk to the man sat across from them. It seemed that Sora knew a lot of handsome Captains with rare, but heart-skipping smiles. This one just screamed angsty backstory with that huge scar – was clearly a tragic hero from a gothic novel. It made him feel impossibly shy.

Naminé was next to him, with her jotterbook and pencil and Sora was squashed in at the end. He had one arm around the top of the booth, protecting her. His hand happened to be placed so that his thumb grazed against Riku’s neck if he leant back. Which was certainly no accident.

There was a girl next to Leon, with short dark hair, tanned skin and almond shaped eyes. She was from somewhere in Asia, but Riku couldn’t pinpoint where. She had been just as excited to see Sora, measuring him against herself and declaring that he was as short as ever.

And Cid sat at the end of the booth, looking equal parts curious and equal parts tired.

“I don’t believe you’ve introduced us to your crew.” Leon took a swig from the tankard in front of him. Of course, they all had the same.

“This is Riku – we met in Bristol.” Sora put his hand on Riku’s shoulder and squeezed it. Enough to make his stomach flip over itself. “And this is Naminé.”

“And where is Naminé from?”

Sora only missed a beat. He took a sip of his own ale. “I think we both know where Naminé is from.”

The girl – she’d been introduced as Yuffie – let out a whistle from between her teeth.

“You did it,” she said. “You actually went and did it.”

Leon looked decidedly less impressed. “You could have been killed.”

“But we weren’t.”

“And look what you did to such a beautiful ship.” Cid shook his head, sighing into his drink.

“Spare me the scolding,” Sora sighed. “We did it and we found Naminé.”

“And what does Naminé think of all this?” Leon asked.

Naminé looked up as though she had forgotten where she was. She thought hard for a moment, then she sighed.

“I’m not sure I have the best opinion on the matter, because I can only remember the last week,” she said. Riku tried to sneak a peak at the lodger – but she clamped it to her chest before he could see more than a haze of pencil. “But I know that I’ve been happy. And I know that there’s a reason it was Sora who found the chest.”

“Naminé just knows things, sometimes,” Riku explained.

She was taking the tankard in her hands – it was so big it took both of them cupped around it – and he lifted it out of her reach. Watered down rum was one thing – but ale? He didn’t think so.

“How can you know things when you don’t remember anything?” Leon pressed.

It was almost freaky, that the three of them said it completely in time. “There’s a difference.”

The adults around them blinked, stunned. Then, Naminé went back to sketching and Riku took a long sip from his own tankard. He still despised the taste – it smelt like urine and didn’t taste much better. But it would make him feel relaxed – feel capable. And that was worth the bitterness.

“So, what do you plan to do now? What’s the next step in finding her?” Yuffie said. She was watching Naminé draw and Naminé kept glancing up and smiling shyly at her.

Sora sighed. “We wait for the repairs, and then we try to get as far away from England as possible.”

“What did you do now?” Leon’s eyes narrowed.

“Me?” Sora put a hand to his chest, his eyes wide. “I didn’t do anything. It’s this one, over here, who’s in trouble.” 

His knuckles brushed against the back of Riku’s neck. It was a soft, fond movement and he felt his face colour just from that. Leon stared at him. There were dark rings under his eyes.

“Runaway?” he asked.

“Barbosa’s already sniffed out a money making opportunity,” Sora explained.

“We haven’t side hide nor hair of either of you, then,” Yuffie said.

Riku smiled. He was unused to this – unused to finding his footing in the conversation – unused to smiling like he meant it.

“Thank you.” It was surprisingly hard to get the words out when Sora’s fingers were still on the back of his neck, running over the tiny hairs there and making them stand on end.

“Done.” Naminé turned the jotter around to show Riku, and he blinked down at it. The shapes were simple, almost childlike, but the drawing was good. It was two small people, sat on a palm tree that sloped sideways in an arc. They were talking to each other, smiles on their faces – one with spiky hair, and the other with a bob.

Wait.

Sora was looking too, and his eyes widened. He stared at Riku for a moment, like he should know what that meant.

“Naminé, let’s see?” he asked.

She passed it to Sora, and as he took it, RIku noticed his hands were shaking. Slowly, he turned it around to Leon and Yuffie, like he was revealing a magic trick. They both frowned at it, doing the same wide thing with their eyes – at mixture of utter shock and complete puzzlement.

“That’s me and Kairi.” Sora’s voice was hoarse. “That was our palm tree. Naminé, how did you-?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know.” She was partly leaning into Riku’s arm, and he let it slip around her. “I just – saw the image and I started drawing. When I started drawing, I knew I remembered where it had come from, who it was and what you were talking about, but now…I don’t.”

Yuffie, Leon and Sora stared at each other. Cid looked completely lost and decided to down his tankard. Riku felt like doing the same. He put his hand around Naminé’s shoulders and tried to give her an encouraging squeeze. She bit her lip and ducked her head so that her hair hid her face.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Riku murmured.

“She said there was a reason it was you, Sora,” Leon said. “She’s connected to you. At least you, if not you _and_ Kairi.”

“There must be some way to recall those memories. Even if it’s subconsciously.” Yuffie was getting excited now, tapping her fingers against the table as she thought.

Sora was still frowning down at the page. “But Naminé’s her own person.”

“I can try.” Naminé’s voice was still small. “I can try and remember. They’re right. There’s a reason I’m here with you, and I want to do it.”

Sora was running a hand over his mouth, frowning deeply. He raised an eyebrow at Riku, who raised one back.

“We can’t do anything until the repairs are done,” he found himself saying. “Let’s see what happens till then.”

Which may just have been the first sensible thing that he’d said since leaving Bristol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I swear I'm introducing all of these characters for a reason! (Well...mostly.) This fic has become something of a monster, honestly, and I have huge plans for it. There's going to be a lot going on and tying in and I'm!! Excited!! For it!!  
> (This is gunna be the fic that I just change the names in and then publish as a novel istg it's getting that convoluted.)  
> But! Yes! I hope this was a good addition, and you're all still with me on this. Please do let me know what you think! 
> 
> (Btw: My tumblr is turnupsdrawssometimes, and my twitter/instagram are both @turntups. Feel free to chat anytime.)


	7. The Waterway

The Secret Waterway

They spent the next day with Leon and Yuffie. Yuffie did most of the talking, filling Sora in on every tiny detail, nudging Leon so that he remembered to grunt and nod his affirmation. It was as they were eating lunch – God, Sora had missed _real_ food - food that you brought pre-cooked and warm from a street vendor – that she had leant across and said, “and isn’t _he_ just charming?”

Sora felt himself smile as he looked across. Leon was showing Riku how to tie different knots. They were both stood at the side of the ship, almost the same height. Riku fit in here, with the tall men with large biceps. His hair caught the wind like a streamer, almost shining in the bright sunlight.

“He is,” he admitted.

“Uh-oh.” Yuffie leant back on her chair, kicking her boots up onto a trunk. “Let me guess – not into boys?”

“Oh, he is. That’s why he decided to be a pirate.” It felt wrong, telling someone else Riku’s secret. But he needed advice, and Yuffie had never failed him. He was driving himself crazy at night. Imagining a million different scenarios were Riku took his face in his hands, leant down and kissed him. Pushed him up against the mast and kissed him until his lips were swollen. Took the wheel from his hands, and when Sora turned around to claim it back, leant down and peppered his cheek and jaw and neck with his mouth.

Riku was allowing Sora little touches. He was getting more comfortable, nudging Sora back and not twitching away from him. But that was it. Little touches. It was like taming a flighty horse, and he didn’t have the patience.

“Isn’t that why we all go on account?” Yuffie asked.

“It’s just – taking him a while,” Sora said. He scowled and rested his cheek in his hand. “I think we have a communication problem.”

“Just talk.”

“But it’s not just talking with him. It’s never been just talking. It’s all a game. A back and forth. He’ll only tell me as much as I tell him and –”

“Stop playing a game and just talk,” Yuffie repeated.

“I him to get over his past. But I can hardly start comforting him when he’s like the bloody mist. Impossible and translucent and –”

“Have you moved on from your past?”

The question made Sora freeze. He turned to stare at her, but her face was impassive.

“I can’t just forget Kairi.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

This wasn’t where the conversation should have gone. Sora frowned, huffed and looked away. He couldn’t play dumb. He knew exactly what she meant, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Just talk to him and be honest,” Yuffie said. “Honestly – you’ve trapped yourself in this game, you know?”

Which just made him scowl and huff further. Of course, she had a point – but he could never give in and admit that.

Riku was laughing at something Leon said. All white teeth and sparkling eyes. For a moment, all he could do was watch.

“How long did it take for you to confess to Aerith?” he asked, turning his wistful smile into a smirk.

Yuffie gave him an indignant squawk and he received a tap on the back of the head. “Long enough. I speak from experience, here. Get over yourself and _talk_ to the boy.”

Which was probably good advice. But it was advice that meant honesty and talking and _emotions_ , and that just wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he slouched back in his own seat and watched Riku and Leon. Riku’s cheeks were already beginning to turn pink from the harsh sunlight.

"There's also Naminé," he murmured. She was trying to placate another of Donald and Goofy’s fights, though she was smiling fondly at both of them.

"She can stay with us for the night." Yuffie buried her knuckles on the top of Sora's head until he started laughing again. "So, make the most of it, okay, little lion?"

Sora nodded, and hoped he seemed believable. Adults always gave sensible advice, but they didn’t realise just how hard it was to implement it.

Yuffie seemed satisfied at least. Then, proceeded to abduct Naminé for the rest of the afternoon in the mission of “finding her something decent that fit her properly.” She fixed both boys with a pointed stare. And it was all they could do was smile sheepishly and apologize.

But it did mean that with the Highwind being worked on, and Leon’s crew busy unloading and bartering their wares, Sora and Riku were left to their own devices. It clicked then.

Yuffie had planned this.

“We can help,” Riku said to Leon.

“No, we can’t.” Sora grabbed his arm, managing to tug him a couple of steps before Riku dug his heels in. He was still stronger than him – he was left walking in place. “We have our own business to attend to.”

“What business?” Riku raised an eyebrow, a corner of his mouth sliding upwards.

“ _You_ need to learn to swim.”

“ _No_.”

“ _Aye_.”

Leon stepped out of the way of one of the crew carrying a huge bag of sugar. “You’d best do it. With Sora’s sailing skills, you’ll be thrown overboard sooner or later.”

“Scupper that!” Sora kept tugging on Riku’s arm and got him to move a few steps more. He was watching the efforts with an ever-increasing smirk. It was starting to make Sora miss the shy Riku that he could push around. “It’s been years since I capsized a boat.”

“But you have capsized one?” Riku asked. He was letting Sora gain more ground now, they were almost at the gangplank.

“It was years ago,” Sora repeated.

Leon called after they’re retreating backs –

“And we’ll never forget it!”

*

Sora looked completely in his element here. His skin was practically competing with the golden sun and his eyes were as dazzling as it. The humid air had really brought him to life and filled him with the energy of a golden retriever. Maybe it was because they were one step closer to his goal, or maybe it was seeing one of his old Captains –

Or maybe it was his glee at seeing Riku flinch away from the sea.

They’d found a stretch of beach not far from the city proper and Sora was determined to have Riku in the saltwater. He’d spent the last ten minutes stubbornly tugging at Riku’s hand as he stood, ankle deep in water that was freezing cold.

“Why would you even come if you weren’t going to try?” Sora asked through gritted teeth. He was about to fall over backwards, sunk into the wet sand all the way to his heels.

Maybe to see Sora roll his breeches up to his knees – to see the sea stick them tightly to his legs and turn his shirt translucent. He was stood against a backdrop of glorious ocean and clear skies – everything about this beach was picturesque and he needed to soak in the image just a little longer.

Probably because Riku just wanted to be stubborn about this. If Sora was so determined to tease him at every given opportunity – well, two could play at that game.

“To see you struggle,” Riku said. Sora gave up tugging for a moment, straightening himself up. “You are _little,_ aren’t you?”

There was that scowling pout that made his heart judder.

“Wait a few years and we’ll see about that,” Sora said. He still had his hands clamped around Riku’s. They were standing here, holding hands. He didn’t move.

“Okay, half-pint.”

He wasn’t sure where it came from. It just felt natural – this felt natural. This was the first friend he’d had that everything had felt so easy – so _right_ with. They’d only known each other a week, but Naminé had been right, it was like they’d all known each other so much longer.

Maybe being alone on a ship did that to people.

“Bold words for a codfish.”

Riku frowned. “A codfish?”

“A coward – a codfish.” Sora dropped his hand, stepping back and into a wave. It splashed against the back of his legs as though it was trying to carry him away. He was grinning, hands on his hips. “Are you _scared_ , Riku?”

It was the second time he’d asked him that in the space of a day, and it niggled at Riku just as much.

“No,” he said.

“You’re not even knee deep.” Sora leant forward slightly, still grinning from ear to ear as he sung. “Riku’s a codfish-“

“Stop that.”

“A codfish, a codfish!”

Riku lunged forward – Sora stepped away, just in time for a wave to crash against Riku’s shins. It threatened to knock him over with the force.

How was Sora still standing, looking like a cat with a mouse?

“It’s _freezing_!”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Sora swiped at the water, sending a spray against Riku’s chest that took the breath from his lungs.

Without thinking, he splashed Sora back. He just laughed, stepping back to avoid the worst.

“Come on, Master Riku, you have to do better than that!”

He couldn’t help it. Sora had activated some part of him that just _had_ to have the last say. It was irresistible to keep stepping forward, keep trying to splash him with the cold water.

Until the water didn’t feel so cold anymore. In fact, it felt refreshing in the face of the relentless sun. Riku had never felt such a heat that was _everywhere_ – sat thick in the air and made him feel like he was trapped in an oven.

Until he was waist deep, completely soaked through, and unable to stop grinning. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He was having _fun_.

Was. Something soft and squishy touched his leg and he froze.

“Somethings in the water.”

“Jellyfish,” Sora shrugged. The water was up around his midriff, and he put up a hand to stop a wave from crashing against his face. “They’re on the shore too.”

Riku looked to where Sora was pointing. He’d thought they had just been very shiny rocks. But no, there were a dozen jellyfish sat in the golden sand, ranging from the size of a pebble to a small cat. There was something tragic about them – lying there dead – like the aftermath of a meteor shower.

“Aren’t they – aren’t they dangerous?”

Sora laughed. “Only their tentacles.”

“Sora!”

“It’s _fine_. There aren’t that many.”

“The more I learn about swimming the more I hate it.” A particularly violent wave threatened to knock him off of his feet and he gripped onto Sora’s shoulder. He was still laughing, his hand coming up to steady Riku’s. It was such an easy movement – such a comfortable movement.

A week and a half ago he never would have been able to imagine that. With anyone.

Never would have imagined standing on a beach in Casablanca with a gorgeous boy grinning at him.

“Do you trust me?” Sora asked.

Riku’s heart skipped a beat, then worked over-time to make up for it. “Yes.”

Sora’s eyes twinkled. They were like jewels.

“Then relax.”

Riku ended up elbowing Sora in the stomach and face more times then he cared to admit, swallowing way too much seawater whilst he was at it as well. It made his stomach feel tight and he struggled to breathe. He wasn’t good at this. He couldn’t succeed at something.

But Sora just laughed, and told him to try again. His hands on Riku’s back, and waist and chest, trying to keep him above the water.

By the time the sun was starting to set, turning the city to molten gold, Riku could still barely stay afloat for more than a few seconds.

“But that’s progress.” Sora’s teeth were chattering as they made their way out of the ocean. Droplets ran down his neck, making his tanned skin glimmer as though diamonds were sat on top of it. “Considering you wouldn’t even get in earlier.”

“I stand by that.” Riku watched his step through the sand – more jellyfish had been washed ashore and he had no desire to stand on one. “That’s torture.”

“I saw you smiling.” Sora looked up then. They were in up to their knees, the sea gently batting against them as if to shoo them away. Somehow, their hands were still entangled. It had probably started as a way of keeping balance, but it had stayed. Sora’s hand was as cold as Riku’s, fit snugly in between his fingers.

He kept staring, taking in the tiny water droplets on Sora’s eyelashes, the way his shirt clung to him – the tiny squeeze he gave Riku’s hand. The way he swallowed as his own eyes took Riku in. He wondered what he must look like – his hair had fallen loose around his neck and he was shivering from the evening chill. His own clothes clung tightly to him.

“Why do they call you little lion?” He found himself asking. It sounded like he was very far away.

“Ah, that’s-“ Sora glanced away, unable to fight a smile. He swung their hands slightly. “An embarrassing childhood nick name. I wouldn’t want to you to think less of me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Riku let their hands swing again, as if it would persuade him.

Sora shook his head. “Didn’t you have a nickname at Harrow?”

Riku’s hand dropped away.

“I wouldn’t want you to think less of me.”

He didn’t say it in the same, teasing way. He never could. That wariness was back – that way that he seemed to tell Sora everything he needed to know just from the tone. A ‘that’s not a happy story’ tone.

Sora looked at their boots, abandoned on the sand, away from Riku. His lips moved, his voice quiet, but Riku was still able to pick out the words over the roaring of the sea.

“Nothing could.”

*

They changed into dry clothes, even though the evening air was still humid enough to dry them off. Riku insisted on rinsing his hair through as well and re-tied it. There was a permanent red to his face from the sun that made it seem as though he was permanently blushing – Sora couldn’t get enough of it.

After stopping off for an ointment for sunburn from Leon, they were weaving their way back through the city. It was just as alive at night as it was in the day – maybe livelier. Drunken songs and loud chatter came from every other building, lit from the inside with a multitude of candles. On every corner, there was someone playing an instrument – flute, violin, lute – the different songs merging to create a medley.

No, _this_ was the part Sora loved. He loved the cities and the people and taking in _life_. The beautiful night sky – blue and purples and pinks – the beautiful city – the beautiful people, including the one at his side.

Riku had almost pulled out the cloak he had worn when they had first met, which had made Sora double up with laughter and Riku toss it at him instead. He still looked ill at ease, even though Yuffie had come back with new clothes for both of them. They were both kitted out in new shirts, waistcoats and breeches. Riku’s was ivory, with gold trimming that made his eyes seem all the more green and his hair all the more silver. She’d chosen well.

“Here.” Sora halted in front of a particular tavern. _Camino Acuático._ The windows had glass that looked like rippling water, and there was a blue hint to them that made the whole pub look as though it was underwater. “Here’s where we went last time.”

“Oh, you remember _now_?” Riku raised an eyebrow.

Sora scowled at him, then opened the door. They attracted attention immediately – there were several glances their way. A wolf whistle was heard from the back of the room. Sora had been in this situation enough to know not to falter, and instead started through the pub, towards the cards tables at the back. The inside was full of bell shaped lamps that made the candlelight cast strange, rippling shadows on the walls – which were covered in paintings of the sea so abstract that it looked more like thick oil paint daubed on the canvas at random.

It was crowded with men and women, all different shades and from all different crews – half part of the Spanish navy, gleefully ignoring the piracy around them – turning their drinks bottom up, arm wrestling and generally making a nuisance of themselves. It wasn’t any different from back in Bristol, just that it was a warmer night and there was more Spanish being thrown around in the air.

Sora sat at a crowded table with a small pile of money in the middle. There was no point sitting at one with a larger jackpot before he could join in – the players wouldn’t have anything left. He watched the men around the table, reading their faces and picking out the bad bluffers. The ones that had cards slipped up their sleeves. Well, two could play at that game. The beauty of cheating against a cheater was that they couldn’t call you out on it.

There was just enough space for Riku next to him, and he leant heavily against his side.

“Head to the bar and order two drinks,” Sora murmured.

“How?”

“Just put two fingers up, they’ll understand what you mean.” When Riku opened his mouth to object, Sora cut across him. “It doesn’t matter what we drink.”

Riku was clearly unimpressed by this, but he got up all the same. It never mattered, Sora thought. As long as he could drink it without spitting it out, it still made his brain tingle. It still made him feel as though he was invincible and unstoppable, and that was all that mattered.

“Join the next round, I can – yes?” He used broken Spanish, stammering and trying to look nervous.

It was an even mix of men and woman, but they all laughed.

“You, little boy?” A lady with particularly auburn hair and black rimmed eyes asked.

He nodded, made sure to bite his lip and widen his eyes. “I have a knack.”

“Ah, but do you have coin?” A Spanish sailor leant forward, treating Sora to breath that stunk of rum.

He nodded, and fumbled in his pockets, bringing out a few coins. His last few coins. Everything was riding on this round, but that was fine. He’d win.

When Riku came back, Sora had already won a game of whist. He made sure to look surprised and embarrassed, which made the auburn lady laugh again.

“Look at that, gents. He really does have the knack.”

“We go again, if you like?” Now he sounded eager and overconfident, which made them agree readily. He leant against Riku as he played, focusing on schooling his impression into the appropriate reactions. To pretend that he had no poker face.

Still, they all kept to Spanish, and he knew Riku was lost in the conversation. He made sure to turn and check that he wasn’t too bored – wasn’t done with Sora already.

Riku nodded. “I’m watching that lady over there beat every man who tries to arm wrestle her.”

Which made him grin.

They were four rounds in – Sora had won the first three, but made sure to lose the last – when the woman nodded to Riku.

“And don’t tell me this pretty one is all yours?”

Riku noticed, and gave Sora a questioning, puzzled glance. He ignored it and grinned.

“Afraid so.”

“Pity. I could use a man like that around.”

Which made the men jeer with laughter. It was clearly an inside joke. Sora used the opportunity to slip a few cards out of his own sleeve. Riku saw as well, but chose to sip from his drink and pretend he hadn’t.

They were six rounds in – Sora had won another two – when the voice came from behind them.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” It was low, smooth, silky and made Sora’s stomach turn. He began sweeping the coins off of the table and into a knapsack. “The Little Lion they call you now, correct?”

The man spoke in English and stepped around the table as he did. He was tall, but slim, his uniform hanging off of him as though he hadn’t eaten properly in weeks. It was a navy uniform – bright red coat clashing against the bright yellow. Though the pocket watch – a huge, round silver affair – was definitely an add on. His hair fell in a dark, tangled mess below gaunt cheekbones and onto bony shoulders. Nevertheless, the scar that pulled one eye and one side of his face down was enough to show he was a threat.

And, handily, was what he went by.

“Scar. It’s been a while.” He was still pushing as many coins into the bag as possible. Beside him, he felt Riku tense.

“Two years. Almost two and a half.” He looked down his nose at Sora, green eyes flashing.

“You’ve been counting.” He hadn’t kept track of the number of pints he had, but knew it was at least one too many. It was enough to make him feel invincible, even when the small, sober part of his brain was telling him to _shut up right now._ He nudged Riku with his elbow, pushing at him to get up.

“Waiting. I knew you’d be back. Back to your old tricks.” He cleared his throat and opened his arms dramatically to the table. They were all staring at this newcomer, watching the exchange with curiosity and suspicion. (Though a few clearly spoke no English and looked completely lost.) “This boy, gentlemen, is a knave and a thief.”

The pirates who could speak English around the table blinked, then burst out with fresh laughter.

“Aye, so are we all!” An eye-patched man grinned, sending another wave of guffaws around.

Riku had slipped out of the booth, and Sora stood with him, passing the knapsack over as he did.

“I mean-” Scar looked frustrated this his point hadn’t hit home. “He is a lying cheat.”

Sora’s arm felt as though it was being tugged out of his socket as he tried to dart past. It was all he could do not to cry out from the shock of pain shooting up from his wrist.

The cards fluttered to the table, face up. It was like a cruel joke. Faces looked up to him from around the table, hardening into stone.

“Ol’ Commodore Scar’s just mad that I robbed him of his dinner.” Sora tried to jerk his wrist away, but Scar’s bony fingers held him tight. “And it looks like he hasn’t eaten since.”

Half the tavern was listening in now, attracted to the loud voices, and half of the listeners laughed. Sora tugged his wrist again, to no avail.

“The boy has cheated you out of your gold and should answer for it!”

He thought, for a fleeting moment, that at least the pretty woman with auburn hair would defend him. But she yelled just as loudly and spiritedly as the others – calling him a liar. The image of damp, dripping cells and followed by a hangman’s noose and dangling feet appeared in his mind. This was just an excuse – he was a pirate, and they all knew pirates hung.

Now he was in for it.

Then there was a yell – “drink of this potion!” – and he caught a glimpse of silver hair pushing in front of him. In the next moment, ale was spraying over the Commodore’s face, and Sora’s other arm was being tugged. He was pulled free, managed to stumble his way to face the front and start weaving through the pub. He hit every table and chair he came across with the side of his hip, only looking to where the door was.

To where Riku was. In front of him. Pulling him along.

Riku had done that.

There were yells from behind them, and he heard people exciting the pub. There was the sound of a smashing glass.

Riku’s hand slipped on his wrist, and it was enough to make him panic. Enough to help him find his feet – to grab Riku’s hand again and tug him along a side street. They kept running, down narrow staircases and through alleys that they had to hold their breath to squeeze through –

Until finally they stumbled out onto a beach. It wasn’t the same one they’d been on in the afternoon – this was on the other side of the city and there was no sand. Only large, craggy rocks that created a bumpy canvas to the ocean.

It felt as though they had been running forever. Sora bent over, gasping at air to fill his lungs. There was a fire roaring in his chest, filling his throat with smoke that made it hard to breathe. His legs screamed in agony.

Riku looked to be in a similar way. He knelt on the rocks, his face turned skyward as he fought for air.

“Drink – this – potion?” Sora gasped. His heart was still racing. He could still see the image of the gallows in his mind.

“It’s – Hamlet,” Riku replied. “Act five, scene two…it was – all I could – think of.”

Sora gave a breathy chuckle. “Look at you. And your – literary references.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

They stayed, fighting for air on the humid night and listening for the sounds of a commotion above them. There always was, in a city like this, but it didn’t sound as though there were any hounds baying for their blood.

The fat knapsack of gold sat next to Riku. Sora eased himself down by it, patting it as though it was his pet dog. He still felt unsteady – was still full of too much alcohol.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Riku shrugged. He was watching the black waves crash against the rocks far in front of them. “It was just like school, really. Every other day a boy was accused of something that ended in a fight. Usually involving food.”

Sora took a deep breath in and let his boots slide against the sand that was stuck onto the rock. He could feel Riku’s question in the air – knew that he needed – deserved – an explanation.

And his head was light enough that even Yuffie’s advice seemed like a good idea.

“I stole Donald from Commodore Scar,” he said. “I don’t remember what crew I was with when we docked here, but it couldn’t have been a good one. We were arrested as soon as we docked in. I was twelve, at the time, and because I was so little they brought me to the Commodore to decide what to do with me. No one wanted to hang a little boy. I think they thought I was younger, I’ve always been…well, you know.”

Riku made a small sound. It was easier to talk to him like this, when they could barely see each other in the moonlight.

“He had a duck in his cabin that had apparently been terrorising his ship and his men since they’d docked a month ago. They could never catch it and it had pecked most of them red raw. It stole their rations and pecked holes in their sails… but they’d finally managed it that morning. He was planning to cook it and eat it, to show it who’s boss. The duck looked at me – in this wire cage, and I just _knew_ I couldn’t leave him there. So I did the only thing I knew how to do – I challenged him to a game of cards for it.”

“And – cheated?”

“Nah. I didn’t know how, at the time. It was pure luck, but the Commodore was convinced that I had. I remember him grabbing me by the front of my shirt and yelling at me – and then it gets a bit fuzzy. I think I screamed and headbutted him until he let me go. I just – knew that I couldn’t leave that duck there. That duck who’d taken it upon himself to make himself a complete menace of the Spanish Navy. And it was so _cute_ – all bright orange bill and bright eyes – so I freed him and everything went mad. He attacked the Commodore and I kicked and clawed at the officer on the door until we were free. We were halfway off the gangplank before anyone could stop us, and all the way back on solid ground when the Commodore came yelling for our heads…I don’t think we were worth the chase. I’m a decent runner, and the duck would give them hell if they tried to grab him again. I hid behind some crates with the duck and watched them pass.”

“Was he Donald back then too?” Riku asked, softly.

Sora smiled. “Yeah. Leon helped me name him. He found me there, that evening – said he’d heard about the whole incident and had been looking for where I’d got to. He didn’t want to leave a twelve-year-old boy alone. When he heard about what had happened, how I’d roared in the commodore’s face, he called me Little Lion. No one’s stopped calling me that since.”

Riku was quiet for a moment. Then he leant back on his hands and turned to Sora. His hair was in his eyes, but he could still see them sparkling.

“Why would that make me think any less of you?” he asked.

“Because –” Sora’s stomach squirmed, and he ducked his head. “Everyone still laughs at it. I was a _kid_. It was a weird thing to do – it was – all for a _duck_.”

“That just shows how good your morales are.”

Sora bit his lip and stared down at the rock between them. Their hands were close, he could twitch out his fingers to Riku, if he wanted. But his chest felt as though it was about to explode, releasing a horde of butterflies with it, so he didn’t. He stayed still and waited for the feeling to pass.

When he finally had the courage to look up, Riku’s eyes flickered away from him. He turned his face back to the sky and sighed.

“I’m afraid my stories are nowhere near as exciting,” he said.

“You don’t have to say.”

“I do.” Riku’s voice was soft. He moved his hands, so that his fingers just grazed the side of Sora’s. It sent a tingle of electric up his arm. “There were – a few names. They were fond of molly, but pretty boy or the girl worked just as well. I was – the closest thing to a girl they had - apparently, and I wasn’t good at hiding that I…when we were all thirteen and they were starting to look at girls for the first time, I didn’t say the right things, or didn’t have the right enthusiasm. It was – I was tutored by another boy – he guessed. He was a couple of years above me. One day he just leant right over our work and kissed me. And I – it continued. Until someone saw us…or he let slip to someone – and everyone knew.”

“Sounds like a right prig.” Sora couldn’t help the venom in his voice.

Riku’s lips twitched upwards. “He was, a bit. Maybe he thought it all a good game. I think they all did – at first. It was just silly flirting and teasing, the way any school has it. But then it started to get – serious. They got fond of – checking I was still – checking I was –“

“You don’t have to.”

Riku ignored him and kept trying. His fingers found a pebble as he did so.

“Throw it,” Sora said. “Throw it away.”

They took it in turns, Sora cursing as he skimmed them, that always got him a small smile and sparkling eyes. He had half a mind to turn their course back to England and storm the school himself.

But Riku was relaxing. His shoulders were loosening, and he unfolded from himself. By the time they’d ran out of rocks, he looked at peace. Sora had only seen him that peaceful the rare few times he woke up first. It was gone, at least for a time, and no doubt there was a catharsis going through Riku. Starting to let go of the past.

Yuffie’s question rang through Sora’s mind - _“Have you moved on from your past?”_ He swallowed it down. He wasn’t the most important person here.

“And how could I ever think less of you?” He was almost sober now and was exhausted. The alcohol had stripped him of all of his energy, but he held on to enough recklessness to flop his head onto Riku’s shoulder. He didn’t stiffen this time, only moved his arm so that it was around Sora’s back, holding him up. Riku was so _warm,_ like he’d absorbed the sun, and he was so _solid._ Warm and real and there. “You’re my Hamlet. You’re my hero.”

They were over dramatic words, but they made Riku’s head tilt so that it was on top of his. His arm tightened around Sora, their hands grazing again. Although the air was starting to have a chill in it now that it was so late, he wanted to stop here. Stop and not move ever again.

Because he knew that Hamlet was a tragedy. But that was the end. They hadn’t reached that part yet.

And if they stopped here, they would never reach it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Sora: I really hope that's Hamlet's line because that's the only character I know from the play..  
> (Will we ever get through a fic without me quoting Shakespeare? It's bloody unlikely.)  
> I think I forgot to mention last time that Morocco was a Spanish Colony in the 18th Century, and that's why there's so much Spanish around.   
> It also took me way too long to realise that I didn't get stung by jellyfish when I went surfing because I was wearing a wetsuit. We're going to play suspension of disbelief and say that Sora and Riku were very lucky in this chapter. (Also, it's totally okay to stand on the top of them, like in Finding Nemo. Some Australian man literally BOUNCED on this huge one and our fifteen year old selves were straight up like :O!!!)  
> But yes - that is the chapter! Bit of bonding, but also a bit of trouble...  
> I do hope you enjoyed - please keep commenting and kudos-ing and reading! Thank you very much for sticking with me so far and I'll see you next week!!! <3 x


	8. The Plan

The Plan

There was still a light on in the cabin as Sora and Riku trudged up to _The Chocobo._ They had been walking so close to each other that the backs of their hands grazed as they passed.

Sora groaned at the sight, and he heard Riku chuckle under his breath.

Sure enough, as they stepped up onto the deck, Leon was standing there with his arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow at them.

“Ah, there’s the tomcats.” His face was impassive, but he placed a hand on each of their shoulders, and he squeezed gently, as though to check they were all in one piece.

Naminé appeared from the cabin in the next moment, running towards them with her hair coiled over her shoulder like a candleflame. She was in a huge, white nightgown that made her stumble. But then she took both of their hands in hers and squeezed them tightly.

“Are you okay? Yuffie told me that you’d fought off twenty men between you! She said that Sora was stabbed and that Riku’s arm was hanging off, but that you still fought another ten men. Killed them all! Because one of them poisoned your cup!”

“And I told you that none of that is true.” Leon pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey!” Yuffie’s head and shoulders appeared from the doorway, shrugging. “I heard what I heard.”

“You shouldn’t tell her things like that.”

Sora thought he was about to drop dead right there. It was three or four in the morning now, and there wasn’t a soul left on the streets. All he could think about was sleeping. It had been a long time since he had felt this irrecoverably tired.

“We’re fine, Naminé, there was no fight. I doubt there was even thirty men interested in actually catching us.” He squeezed her hand and forced his tired face to smile. “Although…I believe someone did yell poison.”

He couldn’t resist grinning at Riku, who looked just as drained as he did. Nonetheless, he leant his head towards Sora, talking in a low voice. His heart began pounding the longer Riku spoke.

“Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice, and could of men distinguish, her election hath sealed thee for herself, for thou hast been—”

Leon raised a hand. “That’s enough flirting for one night. All of you should be asleep.” He put his hand back on Sora’s shoulder, shaking him slightly to get his attention. “You can brag about your repeated victories tomorrow morning, Little Lion.”

Sora was still staring at Riku. He felt winded, like he couldn’t think or move or breathe. There wasn’t a word that boy had said that he understood, but he knew it was flirting. He knew that it made his cheeks burn and his heart race like a greyhound – that if he was still the least bit drunk he would have wrapped his arms around Riku’s neck, pulled him down to his height and kissed him senseless.

Riku was looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, a smirk at the corner of his lips. He had changed this evening – completely. Evidently throwing rocks and cursing out his classmates had done the world of good.

Leon squeezed his shoulder – harder this time – and he blinked.

“What?”

“ _Bed_.” He allowed Leon to steer them back down to where the rest of the crew was. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from Riku, who was still looking at him like he was a cat toying with a mouse.

And yet, the crew’s quarters were full of sleeping men. There was no privacy. Even if there had been, Sora could barely stand up. He collapsed into a hammock. Though he held onto them sat on the rocks – of being curled up against Riku waiting for his head to stop spinning. Of hearing the steady rhythm of Riku’s breath in his chest.

That was the image in his mind as he fell asleep.

*

Riku could hardly recognise Naminé. She had stepped out of Yuffie’s cabin the next afternoon, and looked like a completely different girl. Her hair was pinned up under a small blue boater and she was wearing a full dress for the first time. Riku had forgotten that she was supposed to wear stays, and a petticoat. It was a duck egg’s blue with a modest amount of ruffles and lace – it made her look like a princess from a painting.

Yuffie was grinning from ear to ear at her work.

“Now I can come with you when you go out tonight.” She grinned at Riku. He was leant against the side of the ship, out of the crew’s way. He and Sora had woken late, waiting for the nausea in their stomachs to reside and their heads to stop spinning.

“These two-” Leon caught their heads from behind as he stepped off from the gangplank, ducking both him and Sora forward. “Are not leaving my sight until the Highwind is sailing off again.”

“And then what? Are you going to follow us all the way to New York?” Sora’s crooked smile was back, and Riku couldn’t help laughing. Something had changed last night. It was like everything had shifted – his point of view had skewed enough that it had eased a knot in his stomach. Such an old knot that he had forgotten it was there. But now it was gone – he was untied. And Sora didn’t think any less of him.

It didn’t matter to Sora. Nothing could bother him now.

“Don’t tempt me.” Leon released them with a final push, and they both just laughed again. Sora grinned at Riku, his cheeks pink from the sun. He knew he was faring much worse, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t feel like anything mattered.

“It’s not funny.” Naminé shook her head at them, for the first time looking the image of a young lady. Riku felt a twinge of guilt. “I couldn’t sleep – I couldn’t even sit still not knowing where you were. What if you were hurt?”

“Sorry, Naminé.” Sora managed to look rebuked for just a moment. “But it _was_ worth it. The Little Lion has defeated Commodore Scar once again!”

He raised his voice, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back against the railing. There was a cheer from the crew, and cries of “down with the navy!” and “the Little Lion strikes again!” Which just made Sora look like a cat who had all the cream he could ever need.

Leon glanced over at them from where he was organising cargo and shook his head.

Riku couldn’t quite manage to look guilty. There was something about this – this solidarity, that he was enjoying. It was easy to get caught up in the atmosphere, to want to cheer with the other men and pretend that they had done more than run away.

Naminé stepped forward, holding a gloved hand out to Riku. He took it without thinking, swung it between them without thinking. It was easy with Naminé. He’d never had much experience with girl’s, but it was all simpler. Especially when it was a girl who didn’t care about society. There was never a lurking question of romance waiting to strike like a hawk.

“What are we going to do today?” she asked.

“Well,” Sora drew the word out and Riku’s stomach flipped. He knew exactly what was coming. “If Captain Yuffie will chaperone us, Master _Riku_ still has to learn how to swim.”

He groaned, tipping his head back. “No more water.”

“Oh, definitely water,” Yuffie said, all but dropping a crate onto a crewman’s foot. “If it causes someone agony, I’m in.”

Naminé squeezed his hand, smiling prettily. “ _I_ would like to swim.”

Riku released her hand. “Sora will teach you.”

She pouted at him.

Sora, on the other hand, just gave Riku a sideways glance. He closed his eyes and grinned as he murmured, “codfish.”

"Have you got something to say, _Captain_?" He used his height to his advantage, looming over the shorter boy – who half opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm saying if you don't get in the sea and learn to swim, then you're a cod fish."

Which meant that he had no choice. Half an hour later, he was standing in the surf again, trying to ignore the sun burning his back. It was just as hot as it had been the previous day, but the sun was twice as bright. Donald paddled in the shore, ruffling his feathers and looking pleased with himself, whereas Goofy seemed determined to get them all as soaked as possible, as he chased jellyfish through the waves. Riku said it was dangerous.

Sora had shook his head. “He’ll never catch one.”

So far, he hadn’t.

Yuffie was sat on the rocks, fanning herself and basking in the sunlight like a mermaid.

Naminé looked like one too. She was stood just out of Riku’s reach, safely on the sand. She had left the dress itself on the shore, and was clad only in her petticoat and stays. She stared at the sea with wide eyes. Maybe wondering if she was going to dissolve as soon as she touched it.

“You’ll be fine,” he told her.

“But you hated swimming so much.”

“That’s because-” Sora paused, wrapping his arms around Goofy’s neck and wrestling him into the surf. The dog turned and licked his cheek, sending surf everywhere. The sun caught the droplets and turned them into stars. The image took Riku’s breath away. Sora was _glowing,_ even as he smirked up at Riku. “Riku’s a coward when it comes to water.”

“That’s not true.” His heart was racing. He still had his hand extended to Naminé. She still didn’t take it.

“What’s that Goofy? Swimming is as easy as walking? A _baby_ could do it?”

Goofy had just spotted another jellyfish, and stuck his nose in the surf to try and find it. He emerged, snorting sea water everywhere.

“No, Goofy’s saying that you’re a cocky liar.”

“You can’t understand what Goofy’s saying.”

“Can to.” Riku used his outstretched hand to bat water Sora’s way. Goofy leapt to drink it out of the air, pulling him along with him so that he crashed into the water. He landed by a laughing Riku and even Naminé was giggling.

Sora leant back on his hands, waves cutting against his chest, one hand still on Goofy’s collar.

Then he kicked his leg out and caught the back of Riku’s knee, sending him tumbling into the water. Naturally, Goofy thought this was all a game and started trampling over them, whilst they wrestled with each other to get up. Water spraying in their faces and blinding them so that everything became pushing hands and hot sun.

Hands came to try to separate them, or try to keep them down in the water – Naminé had finally joined them, batting Goofy’s drooling snout away and smiling so much that she glowed as well. They became a tangle of limbs, all pushing and pulling against each other and shrieking every time a cold wave hit them.

Riku caught a glimpse of Yuffie sat on the beach, shaking her head at them. He ducked his head to hide his grin. This was perfect.

He could stay like this forever.

*

Of course, by the end of the afternoon, Naminé could swim perfectly well. As though she had been doing it her whole life, cutting through the waves like she was part fish. Maybe she was.

Riku could just about doggy paddle, and even then he was sinking as he did it. He hated swimming, hated feeling his own weight drag him down, feeling the water seep into his clothes, ears and mouth. Hated having to move constantly – he didn’t have the energy for that.

Didn’t hate having Sora’s hands on his waist, or chest, or helping his keep his chin up. Hands that were warm and firm. Slightly calloused from working on ships all this time.

Really didn’t hate Sora leaning against him, back against his shoulder whilst he caught the last of the sun’s afternoon rays on the sand. His damp hair kept Riku’s shirt from drying, but his hand was sprawled near Riku’s just close enough to touch. He was sure that he’d fallen asleep, though he wasn’t snoring his usual snore. Goofy was stretched between their laps, stinking of wet dog and panting heavily.

Naminé emerged from the sea, petticoat clinging to her.

“You didn’t turn to seafoam,” he said.

“I did want to turn into a mermaid, though,” Naminé sat by him, brown sand catching on her white clothes. Sand was clinging to everything.

“You look like one with your dress like that.”

That made her smile. Her own cheeks were bright red from the sun, her shoulders faring much the same. She sighed, and then leant against Riku’s other shoulder.

“Well, you’re hardly a merman.”

“Hey.” He nudged his shoulder upwards and she giggled.

Donald came waddling up to them, wagging his tail feathers. When he reached Naminé, he gave a long quack, then settled himself down in the sand. Brown sand on white feathers.

“It is disappointing,” she said. “I’m special enough to be found in a chest, but so far I just feel like a normal girl.”

“You’re nothing like a normal girl,” Riku said, before he could stop himself. “All of the girls I’ve met would never dream of going into the sea in their under garments. Their worst nightmare is to be trapped on a ship with two boys – and they’d never rough house with them. They’d be too busy worrying about marrying or not marrying – money stuff.”

"The more I'm told about being a normal girl the less I like it."

That made him laugh. "You're amazing Naminé. Isn't she amazing, Sora?"

It was an excuse to dig his elbow into Sora's back to wake him up. He looked around, petting Goofy absently.

"Naminé, you're the best girl I've ever had has a crew member."

She frowned at him. "I'm the only girl you've ever had as a crew member."

Sora rubbed his jaw in mock-thought, sending a shower of sand down from his skin. "Which means you're also the worst."

"Don't be mean." Riku nudged him in the back again.

"Naminé knows I love her." Sora stretched, nearly whacking Riku in the face. "Right, tavern?"

"Uh-uh," Yuffie called from where she was sat. "Leon said it's not safe."

Sora paused for a moment. "Do you always do what Leon tells you?"

Yuffie opened her mouth to respond, then closed it and frowned. "You're not pulling that trick again. You three are staying on the ship tonight, else I'm sure Scar will have you dancing with Jack Ketch in the morning."

"I'm not scared of him."

Yuffie batted at Sora's head as she passed. "No arguments, little lion."

He sighed dramatically, throwing his head backwards onto Riku's shoulder and spraying him with water droplets.

Which triggered Goofy shaking himself all over and soaking them.

A week ago Riku would have been disgusted. Now he marvelled at that.

How could he ever think that this was a mistake?

*

Sora was bored.

They were all but locked in the cabin of the Chocobo, with Leon leaning against the door like a guard.

He'd tried to engage the others in cards, but Naminé didn't have the patience and Donald, Goofy and the King had never been good at cards. It left him and Riku, who was surprisingly good, but Sora could only cope with seeing those glittering eyes examine him over a handful of cards so many times before he felt like he was going to explode. He just wanted to yank that boy by the shirt into a kiss. If they were alone, he'd ask him to recite more Shakespeare.

Aerith was around, of course - she had brought them all warm cider - and now was concentrating on her embroidery in the corner.

He was desperate to be out in the city. He needed more than one cider - needed another excuse to be alone with Riku. They were close – so close.

"What's your plan?" Leon asked.

It took Sora a moment to realise what he meant. He blinked, then shrugged.

"New York.”

“Are you saying that because you don’t have a plan?”

That was exactly it. But Riku was looking at him like he was a Captain – a real Captain – and Naminé was hanging on to every word.

He couldn’t answer.

“The drawing Naminé did.” Now they were looking at Leon instead of him. He swallowed and tried to pay attention. “Of you and Kairi. Do you remember that moment?”

“Aye.” His throat felt dry. “Well, we sat there a lot.” Everyone was still staring at him and he knew it wasn’t enough. “I was in between crews. That was the last time I saw her – when I was telling her that a crew was taking me on and I’d be away for a while. She asked me to send her a letter in a bottle.”

“I drew one of your memories?” Naminé asked.

“One of you is clever, at least. It was either one of Sora’s, or one of Kairi’s.”

“You want me to try again.”

Leon nodded. “Or you could try going to the location of the memory. It might bring back more. It could be a clue.”

“So, we’ll set our course to Havana,” Riku said. He waited for Sora to respond, but he kept staring at the table, fingers toying with his glass. “Right, Sora?”

“Right.”

Naminé was getting up, looking for paper and a pencil feverishly. When Aerith helped her find some, she sat back down and frowned at the paper, as though she could will an image to be there. Sora’s chest felt heavy – it had been getting harder and harder to breath and now it felt like he was suffocating.

The moment dragged on, and Naminé seemed unable to make a single line. A hard line appeared on her forehead, and she was gripping the pencil so tightly he could see blue veins sticking out of her pale skin.

It was clear. She couldn’t do it on demand.

He stood, thumping down his hands on the table with more force than necessary.

Leon bristled as he stepped up to the door.

“I won’t leave the ship,” he said. Then ducked under Leon’s shoulder and out the door before he could be caught by the scruff of his neck.

He strode up the deck of the ship, taking in deep lungfuls of air to balance himself.

Donald was sat on the prow of the ship, staring at the tiny square lights that made up the city. Sora stretched his fingers out to him, ran the pads of them over the top of the duck’s head. Donald leant into his touch and for a moment, he felt the urge to break down sobbing.

“Everything’s changed,” Sora whispered. He thought he had been liking it – that he had been making progress, but it was too much too soon. They had discovered something big in Naminé – it wasn’t as easy as finding a treasure map to get to Kairi with. And Naminé was a person, not a tool, and he cared about her.

That was the problem. He cared too much. He cared so much about Riku that he thought his heart might burst. And for what? They were still stuck in no man’s land, wondering just how much it would take for the other person to turn away.

Things used to be simple. There used to be him and his animals. But now there were people involved. Sora hadn’t taken on a crew before because people made things complicated.

Why had he forgotten that simple rule?

“Are you alright?” A low voice asked behind him. It was Riku. Of course it was.

Sora didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“She’s not – a machine.” It was easier to talk about Naminé than anything else. That was what had made his chest feel tight, and his stomach-ache with guilt as he had sat there, desperately urging her to draw _something_. “Naminé’s her own person, and we shouldn’t just use her for my selfish aims.”

“Naminé is a person,” Riku agreed. He rested his elbows on the railing next to Sora. Not close to him this time – they had space. “And it’s her choice. She’s choosing to help.”

“Is she?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because everyone is out for themselves,” Sora said. “That’s how it is.”

Donald nuzzled his beak further into Sora’s fingers, and he scratched him under the chin.

Riku didn’t attempt to prove him wrong. After all, they had both got something out of him joining.

“You’ve been on a lot of crews,” he said, instead.

“Aye. I don’t remember my parents, I told you that. As soon as I was old enough to work on a ship – earn some money – I was passed around from crew to crew. It takes a fleet of ships to raise a child.”

“How old were you?”

“Don’t know. Eight, maybe.” He leant his own elbows on the edge of the ship, ran his hands through his hair. It was sticking to him. “Half of them weren’t too happy to do their part, like Barbossa…they don’t make it easy when you’re a kid on a ship.”

“I can imagine.”

“I imagine you were going to fancy parties at age eight.” He knew that it wasn’t true, but it was worth it to see the wry smile appear on Riku’s face.

“Only if I was on my best behaviour. Stayed nice and close to my mother and didn’t say a word.” He paused. “I was at school. As early as possible. Boarded full time.”

“School.” Sora snorted, turned his face so that he was resting his cheek in his hand. “Never saw the point of moulding everyone to know the exact same things and behave the exact same way.”

“That’s polite society.”

“Disgusting.”

“Yeah, it is.” Riku gave a breathless chuckle. His broad chest rose and fell with a breath. Sora remembered it clinging to him. Sand on his collarbones. “But I learnt to read and write.”

“Pointless.” Yes, he was too attached to this boy and it scared him. It scared him how easily they fell into whatever this was, because he knew that one day they would lose it. That was just how the world worked. He knew he’d never be ready to lose Riku.

Riku was smirking. He glanced at him sideways, then turned to him completely.

“I have a proposition.”

Donald chose that moment to quack, and Sora patted him on the head. “My lawyer says not to listen to such a proposition.”

Riku ignored him. “I learn to swim, if you learn to read.”

He screwed up his nose. “Reading’s pointless. _Swimming_ is practical. It’ll save your life.”

“What’s this?” Riku pressed a hand to his chest, faking shock. Sand. Collarbones. Sora drifting to sleep imagining kissing it off of him. “Captain Sora? Scared of a book?”

“I’m not _scared_ – I’m saying there’s not _point_ to reading.”

“I believe that, you sir, are a codfish.”

And Donald quacked as if to back Riku up.

Which of course, gave Sora no choice.

*

By the time the repairs were done, Riku could stay afloat long enough to fight his way back to shore, and Sora could stumble through a page of writing. Both feats would only be done under duress, and only if someone called someone else a codfish. Once, it took Riku tossing his boot at Sora to get him to stop chanting.

It had only made Sora throw his back. Which he’d blocked –

Only to be hit in the jaw by Naminé’s slipper.

Yuffie had called them the worst influences on a young lady she had ever seen. They had just laughed. Leon had said she wasn’t much better.

Of course, it had left him with a sizeable bruise on his jaw. He’d caught Sora staring at it a few times, biting his lip. When Riku had asked what was wrong, Sora had said, “just makes you look rugged, that’s all.”

And then he had winked, and Riku hadn’t been able to talk for ten minutes.

They were stood on the Highwind now, getting ready to cast off from Casablanca. King Mickey was back on Riku’s shoulder, chewing on a loose strand of his hair. He had to admit that he had missed the company of the small mouse. There was something comforting about his weight, to be able to reach a finger up and feel downy fur underneath it. He didn’t mind the tiny hands so much.

Little Chief had been happy to see them too. He had run along the railings, to deposit a bag of coins into Sora’s hand. It had made him grin, and Riku swore that the rat _nodded_.

“Not bad work, if I say so myself.” Cid was stood on the dock, looking proudly over the ship from head to toe. Riku had been shocked – it was as though nothing had been broken in the first place.

“Aye, the work was okay, gramps.” Sora leant over the side, crooked smile back where it belonged.

“You watch yourself, _chamaco_ , or you’ll be running into someone who’s not as friendly as I am.”

“That’s the last of it loaded.” Leon emerged from their hold, with Yuffie in tow. Riku felt a twinge in his stomach. If he hadn’t been blown away by the sheer attractiveness of the man, Leon had been kind as well – it simply wasn’t fair. He had patiently taught Riku how to tie sails properly, which knots to use, how to lift heavy cargo. He’d been a brilliant teacher, and a good friend – if he was so bold as to use that word – and it made him reluctant to go.

“Thanks for the food.” Sora hid the wince well, but it was clear that asking for help bothered him somewhat.

“Just stay out of trouble, little lion.” As if he could read their minds, Leon put a hand on both of their shoulders. “Send a letter to Cid if you need us. He’ll know where we are to pass on a message.”

"There's another thing." Yuffie was still out of breath, pushing her dark hair away from her face. "Some of the Englishmen coming into port have been looking for a silver haired boy."

Riku's heart stopped. It felt like he'd just been woken up very suddenly from a dream with a bucket of ice water.

"They know that he left from Bristol, and apparently there’s a fair amount of money to whoever can find him. Including the navy."

"The pair of you just made yourself a lot of enemies," Leon added. "Scar's put out a bounty for your head too, Sora."

Riku expected him to be just as panicked, but Sora was practically grinning from ear to ear.

"That just means we're becoming real pirates."

Leon sighed. "Aye, you're a pirate in the eyes of the law now. You can't claim to be in the wrong place at the wrong time or coerced into it."

It only sobered Sora slightly. "I know."

Riku had the feeling that he never would have used what little excuses he had just lost anyway.

There was a moments pause, before Yuffie and Leon looked at each other and nodded. It really was time to go, now. Leon gave their shoulders one last squeeze and nodded to Naminé. Yuffie gave them all tight hugs.

Riku was too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

"Keep that ship safe!" Cid called.

Sora was untying ropes and Riku helped automatically. His breath was coming in short gasps and his hands were shaking. Naminé kept Donald and Goofy out of harm’s away at one end of the ship, declaring that she would help direct them out.

King Mickey pressed into his neck, snaking a tail around the back of his neck to comfort him. It only made him think of England. Of dark closets and scurrying sounds in the dark.

"It doesn't make sense. They shouldn't have realised I was missing yet." He managed to say around the panic.

Sora didn't glance up from the ropes. "Barbosa. He'd have told everyone he came across."

"Even the navy?"

"No." Sora frowned. "Maybe your plan didn't work. Or they figured it out more quickly than you thought."

"Maybe." Riku shook his head. This holiday - this paradise - had been completely ruined in a single instant. A shiver ran up his spine. Being caught. It couldn't happen. "I'm sorry - I'm causing you trouble."

"A good friend once told me." Sora grunted as he pulled a sail out, then flashed a grin at Riku. "You're only in trouble if you get caught."

Riku wanted to smile. If it had been yesterday, he would have smiled and agreed. But he could hear the shouting and feel a sting across his cheek.

"Riku, I've wanted something to run from my whole life." Sora stepped forward. He reached out his hand, and then seemed to think better of it. It hung in the air between them - the thing that they weren't acknowledging. "You've given me purpose, not trouble."

His heart changed tack and began to pound for a completely different reason. Sora chased the panic away and turned it into something else.

His eyes were _so_ blue. Bluer than the sea. Bluer than the sky. It was like they he had absorbed the colour from all around them and now he was impossible to look away from.

Riku raised his hand without realising, his fingers stretching to Sora out of their own accord. “Isn’t it better to be running too something? Not from?”

Sora sounded breathless as he replied, “I wouldn’t know.”

Well, it wasn’t like he knew either.

Their fingers grazed each other and Riku felt electric shoot down his arm at the touch.

“We’ll be caught if we don’t leave soon.” Naminé called from the prow.

They pulled away, turning back to the sails and trying to look busy. Finding only rope to occupy their hands. She leant on the rail, watching and, if Riku wasn’t imagining it, smirking.

Sora and him may have been bad influences, but it didn’t seem as though Yuffie had been much better.

They pulled out of the harbour and went back to the open sea. But it had lost some of its appeal now. Riku kept expecting to see ships on the horizon line. To be boarded by pirates and kept in a bilge until his family paid out. Or the navy – who would certainly arrest Sora to be hung when they got back to England. The sea was now full of foes.

And they couldn’t get caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I'm trying to get a healthy mix of plot and fluff in there...  
> I will say stick with me lads because chapter 10!! Exciting things!!  
> And there's actual piracy in the next chapter!  
> Thank you so so so much for all of the comments!! I really do appreciate all of the comments and kudos and bookmarks!!!   
> I hope this lived up to expectations and I will see you next week! <3 xxxx


	9. The French Navy

The French Navy

There was a shape on the horizon. It had to be a ship – Riku was sure it was a ship. He could only hope that it wasn’t coming their way. There was no way that they could know who they were – no way they could have found them so quickly.

Unless they had followed them from Morrocco.

But they were coming from the wrong direction for that. Maybe it was just a normal ship, passing them by.

But it wasn’t an easy thing to ignore when there was nothing else to do on the ship.

Naminé was sat by him, the ledger open on her knees. She’d been scribbling inside it all morning. Sometimes, her mouth would move as if she was telling herself something.

He leant against the wind, so that it blew his hair around his face like a curtain. It shielded his expression as he watched Sora on the main deck, teasing Donald with a crust of bread and encouraging him to chase Goofy. King Mickey was sat on top of the dog's head, almost steering him around the ship like they were on a parade. Goofy didn't seem to even notice.

Riku watched as the King jumped from Goofy’s crown and onto Donald’s back. He ran off with the mouse on him, puffing up his chest with pride.

Sora laughed. And it sounded like the sunshine. Riku’s heart felt as though it was being squeezed at the sound. He was so –

He was too invested. They were too invested for each other considering they knew each other for two weeks. Hardly any time at all. But he couldn’t help it – everything Sora did seemed to make him fonder and fonder of him. He – understood everything. Even though they were worlds apart – had always been worlds apart – Sora just got it. Understood being clumsy, being – different.

Being queer.

As if he could sense it, Sora looked up and met his gaze. He smiled, the wind ruffling his hair. It made him look like a pirate from a storybook. And yet he was the most kind-hearted pirate he’d ever heard of.

“Are you two courting?” Naminé asked.

Riku realised he was smiling. And he almost choked on air. “What?” 

“In Cascablanca, I saw a man and a woman walking arm in arm, and Yuffie said they were courting. That they were in love. I figured you two were the same.”

“We’re –” Riku didn’t know what they were. He found there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he said. “Not.”

“You look at each other the way they did.” Naminé paused. “Do you _know_ you’re not courting?”

Riku waited too long to reply. “I’m sure.”

But he wasn’t sure if he even believed himself. He couldn’t explain to Naminé that there was barely anything he just _knew_ like she did.

“Run up the white flag!” Sora called, making both of them jump. He was leaning over the rail, spyglass pressed to his eye, and he was grinning.

“You know them?” Riku called.

“No, it’s the navy!”

Riku came down the steps, his heart stuttering. “Aren’t they the people that we should be avoiding?”

“They’re the people that shouldn’t catch us.” Sora handed the spyglass over to him, and he peered through it. It was a ship on the horizon, slightly closer than before, about the same size as their own. “That doesn’t mean we should be avoiding them.”

Riku put the spyglass down and frowned at him. There was something niggling – he knew what Sora meant but he didn’t want to believe it.

Naminé had followed him down the steps, and she plucked it from him, staring at the ship too.

“A small navy ship like that will be carrying plenty of sugar and tobacco. We’ll sell it on when we get to Havanna.”

“You mean – steal?”

“Riku, this is a pirate ship.” Sora spoke slowly, raising his eyebrow further and further. “I am a pirate. By proxy, that also makes you a pirate. And pirates steal.” Sora rested his chin on his hands, smiling. “And _you’re_ the one with the fancy education?”

“Stealing isn’t lying low.” Riku leant forward slightly, glancing behind him. Naminé was still staring at the ship, leaning so far over that she was in danger of going overboard. “And we’re supposed to be setting a good example.”

Sora raised an eyebrow. Then he leant further forward. “Naminé? The Navy are the ones claiming parts of the sea are theirs. Want to get some vengeance?”

Naminé turned, so that her hair blew into the wind like a banner. She was grinning, and that made Riku’s heart sink. “Definitely!”

He was sure this was a bad idea, but could only shake his head in exasperation.

“And they’re French,” Sora added.

Which just decided it. Riku conceded, running up the white flag and keeping Naminé steady as Sora steered the ship closer. They made painfully slow progress. It made him suddenly aware just how slow they were going – just how easy it would be for a much larger ship to catch up to them.

But eventually, they were close enough to the other ship for him to make out the French flag with his bare eye. Members of the crew scuttled across the deck like worker bees. Lots of them.

And there was only three of them.

His guts clenched with nerves. Part of him wondered how he’d let Sora talk him into this, but that was the wrong question. The question was – why couldn’t he ever say no to that crooked smile? It had all started there, and it was the reason they were all in this mess.

And even though this was going to be a disaster – he could feel it – he wouldn’t have changed anything along the way.

When they got close enough, Sora yelled, “you have to help us!”

There were shouts from the other boat in French. Sora kept shouting in English, until a heavily accented voice yelled back, “what ‘as ‘appened?”

“Pirates!” Sora shouted. Naminé and Riku shared raised eyebrows, but stayed silent.

The ships came closer and closer together, until they could make out the men in the French navy hurrying to put down a gangplank between the two ships.

Sora was on it before they could blink, walking on it with ease. It reminded Riku of a cat walking on a thin wall.

And, because he had followed Sora with unsuccessful questions so far, he hopped onto the gangplank behind him, offering a hand to Naminé as well.

The sea raged underneath him in a green-blue haze. It made the plank feel very thin – Riku felt himself waver and his gut clenched.

Naminé squeezed his hand. He forced himself to look up, keep moving. Keep his eyes on Sora, who was already hopping onto the French ship and talking rapidly to a tall, blonde officer. His hands moved in windmills and he made his voice tremble.

“You see, we were kidnapped by pirates in Morocco – they kept us on board the ship – but then – then there was a huge storm. They got – they got blown over-board. We’ve been…stuck ever since. We have no idea where we’re going-”

The man held his hands up. His thick eyebrows pressed against each other.

“Too fast. _Vous parlez Francais?”_

Sora gave a heavy sigh and turned to Riku. He blinked down at him – there were almost tears in his eyes. His bottom lip was trembling. This boy was _good_ at lying. His true calling was as an actor.

“Riku, can you translate?”

So he did, all too aware of the inaccuracies of his accent. All too aware that it must seem strange that one of them could speak French.

“Wait.”

A voice cut across the deck like a hot knife through butter. A tall, thin officer with a rosary around his neck was striding across to them. His skin was pale and wrinkled, like he’d been left in water too long, and yet he still stood like a young man.

Riku felt his stomach squirm, and tried to give Sora a warning look, but couldn’t catch his eye. He felt the urge to turn back to the boat, but he knew it was too late.

“Pirates, you say?”

Riku nodded. Yes, it was him. It had to be. He’d know those beetle-black eyes and thin lips anywhere.

The man’s demeanour changed. He became sharper, thick eyebrows furrowing. “Get them blankets and a large glass of red wine. Come with me.”

He was already clipping his way back across the deck. The officer stood aside, and the three of them followed. What was the plan? What was Sora planning to do?

The cabin was full of rich, dark fabric – as curtains and draped over the tables and chairs. There was a stack of Bibles on the desk, more rosaries, piles of curling paper covered in black copperplate. A large crucifix stood in one corner.

Riku couldn’t meet the statue’s eyes. It seemed to be staring at him – seemed to know that he and Sora shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing any of this.

Sora nodded at him, and they both took a seat. Naminé stood behind them, running a finger over the lettering on the bibles. The officer – priest? – nodded approvingly, murmuring that it was good “young people still appreciated religion these days.”

Naminé just smiled at him and kept looking at the desk. There was a pocket watch sat there. Silver. It looked familiar – he had seen one like that before.

But then, lots of people had silver pocket watches. And French imports were very fashionable as of late.

The blonde officer returned, with glasses and a bottle of wine. It was thick and dark, the kind that Riku drunk when he was at home. He didn’t touch it.

Sora took a sip of his. Riku noticed the twist of his mouth as he swallowed. Maybe it was to be polite. Maybe it was just to calm his nerves.

The religious officer took a long drink, his eyes half-closed. They waited. Riku’s heart pounded – expecting the man to realise.

“Pirates are a blight on the ocean,” he finally said. “They pollute the waters with their – lies, their stealing, their buggery. It’s been my mission for the lest ten years to bring a stop to every last one of them.”

“When you say ‘stop’…” Riku knew the answer, but he didn’t want to hear it. Not from this man.

“Hang them, sir.” There was a nasty glint in the man’s eye that Riku recognised. It was the same look in his Mother’s eyes, in his teacher’s eyes – in every adult that disproved of the way the world was moving. Next to him, Sora took a larger swig, his eyes on the table. “And you tell me that you were captured by them? You must give me details – who they were, what they looked like – surely that is not their queen bee of a ship.”

“Well – it’s a – it’s a good ship,” Sora muttered.

“Nonsense! Any boat that has had a pirate on it is only worthy of being at the bottom of the ocean!”

Sora raised an eyebrow at Riku, and he found himself smothering a smile. Ridiculous, when he had been feeling hot and nervous all over just moments ago. This was mad – he had no idea what they were doing here or what the plan was – and yet Sora made it feel like an adventure. Sora could make a joke out of anything.

Then he turned back to the man and began talking, rapidly, making up descriptions and names. He doubled back on himself as he was telling his story, so that even Riku became lost in the lies. Half-believed that two huge ginger pirates with snub noses had held them captive whilst their crew of similarly huge pirates looted them.

He noticed that Sora kept pouring wine, but not into his own glass. And he noticed Naminé opening the man’s drawers quietly, peeping into each one, then closing them again.

The man’s eyes kept travelling back to Riku. He kept ducking his head behind his hair, faking taking a sip. Even the smell of the wine made his gut clench. Made him think of hands clutching his shoulders and of watching every word he said. Watching – everyone watching every move he made. Assessing every blink and breathe for signs that he was not like _them_. 

But the man stayed quiet.

Maybe he had been wrong – maybe this wasn’t who he thought it was.

As soon as he was convinced of that fact – that maybe there was two – a twin, or something, the man put his glass down. Red sloshed out of it. Pooled on the dark wood like a spot of blood.s

“I know you.”

“Don’t be silly, Riku’s never been to France.” Sora’s smile fell as he saw the panic on Riku’s face.

“No, I _have_ seen you.” He stood, pale face turned beetroot red. “You – you were the _one_ – the one who hid that – gypsy!”

“That’s nonsense!” Sora stood too.

Riku’s fingers tightened on the glass. He could toss it again. But what would that help. “No, it was me.”

He wasn’t sure why he admitted it. Maybe it was to prove a point.

The man’s face was going beetroot to purple.

But before he could release a fresh volley of words something struck him in the back of the head.

Naminé was holding the crucifix in her hands. Her eyes were wild.

“His sword – get his sword,” Sora said.

Riku scrambled for it, even as the man was coming around from the hit. Once he had pulled it out of the scabbard, he stared at it. He’d seen a sword before – held a sword before – but it had been a fencing foil. It hadn’t been sharp. Hadn’t had a thick blade that gleamed like it was alive.

Sora took it from him – took charge completely. Hopped onto a chair, held the blade to the man’s throat and murmured in his ear. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to open the door, and tell your crew that you have decided to split your cargo with us – sixty per cent of it, in fact.”

“You – you –” The man resorted back to French. The language made Riku raise his eyebrows. Hardly what he’d expect from a priest. 

Sora rolled his eyes. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something determined that Riku hadn’t seen before. Scary. Something that made his knees weak. There was something about this Sora that he wanted to see more off.

Sora pressed the sword closer to the man’s neck, until he nodded.

Riku’s heart was racing. He looked over to Naminé as Sora hopped back down, holding the tip of the blade against the man’s back instead. Her eyes were wide and her face was pale, as though she couldn’t believe what she had done either.

It happened exactly as Sora had said it would. The man told the men to share the cargo, and they did. He spent the next couple of hours helping men carry crates into their own hold, against Yuffie and Leon’s supplies. His heart never stopped pounding, and he could hardly get his hands to stop shaking to be of any use. This was really happening.

They were stealing from people.

It only went wrong when Sora slipped around the man, sword still in hand and made a break for the gangplank. Immediately, the man yelled “pirates! Stop them! God’s teeth, stop them!”

But Sora was already across, kicking the gangplank to sever the connection. Riku was already lifting the anchor up and Naminé was unfurling the sails. They got an easy head start.

“They’ll catch us!” Riku said. The French ship was already moving behind them. He kept thinking how much lighter they were now that they had gotten rid of all that cargo.

Sora shook his head and tossed the sword to Riku. He caught it without thinking, feeling half-blinded now that the smirk was back. Sora’s eyes glittered like jewels and he laughed.

“No one can catch the Highwind!”

*

Sora’s blood hadn’t stopped racing. He’d forgotten what it was like – to actually be a pirate. To have a sword in his hand and a hand on the wheel, leaning into the wind and outrunning other ships.

It had been fantastic. Goofy had brought them ammo for the puckle gun and Riku had fired it like he had been doing it all his life. It had sent a shot straight through the hull of the French ship. Not bad enough to sink them completely, but bad enough to slow their progress. The second one was bad enough to make them stop and focus on trying to stay afloat. Riku hadn’t seemed to want to kill them.

Which was noble, in its own way. He should have thought it cowardly, but it was Riku and that made things different. Made Sora feel as if he was melting.

It was incredible. They had worked as a team – seamlessly – and they had pulled off their first heist as a crew. Sora’s first crew. He had done pirating with a crew.

Adrenaline was racing through him, setting him on a high that made it hard to stop grinning. Their hold was full of cargo they had acquired themselves – cargo that would make them one hell of a profit when they docked in Havanna.

He was finally doing it. Being a successful pirate.

And if he was honest, the wine had gone to his head.

At dinner – curtesy of Little Chief sniffing out the ripest vegetables and him and Naminé creating something of a stew from them – he cracked open the good brandy.

“As a celebration!” he said.

Naminé cheered and raised her glass to his. Riku just smiled and shook his head, but there was a fond look in his eye. He kept looking at Sora as he took a sip, focusing on Sora’s lips for just a moment, before he looked away.

Which kept that grin on Sora’s face a little longer.

“And it looks like someone has been holding out on us,” he said, edging his leg out under the table. He found Riku’s ankle and nudged his leg against it.

Riku’s leg moved away. “It was – we were in Paris, a few years ago now. But my mother – I guess didn’t think I would have the guts to slip away, so she didn’t keep as much of an eye on me. But I – did.” He swirled the brandy around in the glass, his eyes distant. “And I met a girl on the streets. She was dancing and she was – I’ve never seen anyone move like that. It was incredible…But then some Priest showed up – started yelling at her, calling her-” he glanced at Naminé. “I only helped hide her. She knew the backstreets well enough to get me back to my hotel and I just – let her hide out there for a bit. Just until the guards stopped looking for her.”

“You must have made quite an impression if he remembers you from after all this time.” Sora tilted his head to one side, watching Riku refuse to meet his eye. Feeling a tinge in his gut. A woman. Riku had met a woman who he thought was incredible. He’d been so sure of this, but maybe he had been wrong after all.

“Well, it became a bit of a habit. We were there for a month, and my mother was on business for most of it. The woman was always by Notre Dame, and I – always hid her whenever she got into trouble.”

And Sora tried not to feel too jealous about that. Instead he tilted his head and smiled, foot following Riku’s leg.

“You really are a hero, aren’t you?”

Riku gave a wry smile. “Well, it didn’t end well once my mother found out.”

His hand went to his ribs, unconsciously, and it told Sora everything he needed to know.

“But it’s worth it, isn’t it?” Naminé asked. She curled her hair around her finger, sipping from the brandy. He probably shouldn’t have given it to her, but he was still feeling reckless. And it was worth it when she said, “you saved her. You’re like a real prince.”

Which made Riku’s cheeks flush carnation pink immediately. Even his pale eyelashes looked slightly pink.

“I – I guess,” he muttered.

“And you look like one too. Doesn’t he, Sora?”

“Hm?” He had only been half-paying attention, if he was honest. He’d been busy tracing the line of Riku’s nose and the shape of his lips. And he knew Riku had been busy trying to ignore the stare, but he was still biting his lip and glancing up at Sora every other moment. “Aye. Aye, he does.”

Riku’s cheeks turned from pink to crimson.

Naminé, on the other hand, smiled knowingly at Sora. As if to say ‘you’re welcome.’

Sora winked. Naminé grinned – practically glowing with pride. She was watching the two of them, and she was a lot smarter than she was given credit for. She knew what was happening, and it seemed she’d taken it upon herself to do something about it.

That was fine by him. If it gave Riku a nudge in the right direction, he’d take the help. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten far on his own.

They kept drinking until the sun disappeared and the candle was burning too dimly for them to see each other's faces clearly.

And this was heaven, Sora thought, scratching Goofy behind the ears and laughing at everything anyone said, whether it was funny or not. This was what having a crew should be like. Even if they were a school boy, a duck, a dog, two mice and a girl born from the sea.

Sora and Riku headed to the other side of the ship - to their cabin. And he felt incredibly lightheaded, incredibly invulnerable.

He was humming. Humming 'yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirates life for me,' and knocking his hip against Riku's on the beat.

"You're drunk." Riku caught his shoulder; helped guide him across the deck.

"And you're not."

Riku shook his head, so he leant his whole weight against him. He kept walking, as though that didn't bother him. Sora could see him smiling in the moonlight.

“Quote something,” Sora said. “Quote something pretty.”

“Maybe you should learn to read, then you could quote things yourself.”

He caught Riku’s waist in his arms. It was risky – but he was lightheaded. He could play it off as a stumble, that he was balancing himself because his mind felt as though it was drifting away from him. This was the kind of drunk he liked.

Riku didn’t pull away. He steadied him. Steadied them both as they stopped on the deck. His arms barely grazed him, but they were there. That was worse – the feather light touch.

“Drinking provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.”

His chin was against Riku’s ribs as he looked up at him. Looked up at the smirk and the raised eyebrow.

Then Riku snorted with laughter, and Sora followed. He buried his head into Riku’s shirt, partly because it smelt of him, and fought through the laughter. “That’s _not_ pretty.”

“It’s Macbeth, you dope.”

“It’s not _pretty_ ,” Sora insisted. They swayed, and he tightened his grip. As though Riku was floating away along with his mind.

Riku hesitated. His fingers brushed the top of Sora’s hair. Then he murmured, in a soft voice, as though he didn’t think Sora could hear it. “Do not fall for me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.”

His heart stammered. He wanted to pull Riku even tighter. To reach up and take him by the neck and tell him no with his mouth. But he didn’t.

Instead he pulled away, and shook his head. As if the energy had fallen away from him completely.

“That’s a falsehood if ever I heard one, Master Riku.”

Riku kept an arm around him. Kept steadying him as they continued. “You said quote something pretty. That’s _As You Like it_.”

He read too much to be good for any man.

They stumbled through the door as one, and Riku half-dropped Sora so that he was half in his hammock and half-falling out of it.

He stumbled, catching the front of Riku's shirt for balance.

"You're stressed," Sora murmured. His face was almost pressed against Riku's neck. He could smell the sweat and sea breeze coming off of him.

"I am," Riku admitted. His hands were on Sora's shoulders, balancing him. The hammock swayed. "Do you know what will happen to you if you get caught?"

"I'll hang." He kept his eyes on Riku's collarbone, even though it was almost pitch black in here. The only light came from the other end of the cabin in a silver square. He ran his fingers down the collar of the shirt in front of him. "But you should be worrying about yourself. What will happen to you if you get caught with me?"

Riku shook his head. A stray hair nudged Sora's knuckles and he caught it, running it between his fingers.

"I'm sure a few accidents. Sure that I would be watched like a hawk for the rest of my live - every action monitored." He paused. "It would be like nothing had happened at all. And that's the worst part of it all."

He was leaning over the hammock, and if Sora titled his head the right way, it would be easy to kiss him. He tried tilting his chin upwards, enough to see that Riku was looking down at him. His eyes shone.

There it was. That thing. Like a fluttering bird they were trying to catch with their bare hands.

Riku wanted this. Sora was sure of that. It didn't make it any easier to close the gap. His heart was pounding like a drum and his head was swimming.

But then this thing would be caught. And everything would change.

"We won't get caught." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "Trust me on that."

"Yeah." Riku's hand had dropped, down past Sora's shoulder and into his hip. He leant forward, experimentally, and the hand slipped around to his back. The thing was beating its wings wildly. "Because you've never led us into trouble."

"You've loved it."

A smile played on Riku’s mouth. His eyes glittered. "Can you actually use a sword?"

The laugh in his throat only made it out as a breathy chuckle. "Do you want a demonstration?"

He'd half lost track of what they were talking about. It only seemed to matter that his legs had wrapped themselves around the back of Riku's and that he was pressing into him, one hand running through that long, silver hair. And that Riku's fingers were gazing his hair line.

And then they fell away.

"We should get some sleep."

"Mm, sleep is overrated."

Riku was trying to untangle himself, Sora was trying to cling on.

"You're drunk." Riku's hand was on his cheek.

“You’re hardly sober.” He leant into the touch, smiling.

“I can’t.” The meaning was clear – 'I can't do this when you're drunk.'

As if it would be a mistake.

As if tomorrow morning, they would continue, as if this had never happened at all.

Sora put a hand over Riku’s and fell silent for a few moments. He stayed there, unmoving. Their breath mingled in the air between them.

"Goodnight?" Sora finally murmured.

Riku's thumb ran over his cheekbone, the touch light as a feather. "Goodnight, Sora."

Then he disappeared. He let himself flop backwards into the hammock, his head spinning as if there was a storm outside.

That had been close. As close as they had ever got. But if this happened whilst Sora was drunk it would complicate everything even more. There would always be the question of if he meant it. How much was him and how much was the alcohol?

He sighed, already struggling to keep his eyes open. If he concentrated, he could still feel Riku's strong arms around him.

Maybe the alcohol adrenaline wasn't the best, after all.

*

They saw the ship two days later. Two days of Sora and Riku edging around each other’s touches. Both desperate to ask if they could now.

Goofy and Donald had spotted it first, barking and quaking at a shape in the distance.

Riku had taken the helm whilst Sora peered through his spy glass.

"A man of war," he said. "British Navy."

"That's not good."

"We'll fly the yellow. Sit tight in the cabin."

"Sora." Riku put a hand on his shoulder, let it run down his arm. "Be careful."

He caught the hand as it fell, squeezing their fingers together for just a moment. "I always am."

Riku disappeared.

It was back to how it had been before, Goofy and Donald could loosen the sails to catch more wind. The Highwind was fast, it would be difficult to slip away from the man of war, but Sora was sure he could manage it.

Some sharp rocks or a whirlpool would definitely help though.

It approached with alarming speed. Sora tried altering their course, so that they clung onto the wind as much as possible, but that the other boat was against it. That didn't seem to make a difference. The British ship was decreasing the distance between them more and more by the minute.

"Naminé, you should get below too," he said, eventually. When it looked certain that the ship would catch up to them. "You don't exactly look like a normal lady."

"I could change clothes and pretend I'm a boy?" she suggested.

Sora shook his head. "Better to stay down there. Yellow flag means there's an illness on board. The less people on deck, the more believable it is."

Naminé looked unsure, but she still nodded. As she went below, she whistled to Donald and Goofy to follow her. Donald looked back at Sora. He nodded in encouragement, and the duck waddled into the cabin.

They were losing wind.

The larger sails of the British ship kept it cutting across the ocean.

By mid-afternoon, it was almost upon them.

It was lonely, at the helm without a crew. Sora ached to go down to the cabin. His fingers had cramped from gripping the steering wheel so tightly for so long.

The Highwind was losing the chase.

“By order of the Navy, weigh anchor!” a voice boomed at him from the other ship.

Sora pointed to the flag, trying to look distressed and frantic. It wasn’t hard to fake. They knew – this ship knew who they were and was after them.

Whatever happened now, they couldn’t get onboard.

The order was repeated. It felt as though someone had a hand in his ribcage and was squeezing for al they were worth.

“There’s scarlet fever aboard!” he yelled back. “You can’t!”

You can’t come aboard. You can’t ruin this. You can’t ruin everything.

“Weigh anchor or we will forcibly board.”

A chill came up Sora’s spine. His hands tightened on the wheel, but they were beaten. There wasn’t enough wind for them to take the lead – the ship was much too large to subdue with the couple of cannons and two puckle guns they had. Even if he tried to steer the ship away, they would be caught again within the hour.

There was no way their ship could stand up to the man of war.

Sora took a breath. He knew his voice would hardly be heard in the wind, but he still called, “I _can’t._ ”

He couldn’t give him up. He couldn’t give any of this up. Couldn’t give any of it up. He’d made a promise. Told Riku time and time again that it would be fine – that they wouldn’t get caught.

It looked as though he had lied.

Grapples thudded into the side of the ship, sending red wood splintering like starburst over the deck. The whole thing lurched sideways, as though it was trying to pull away, before it was yanked towards the navy ship. Sora’s boots slipped on the deck and he hung onto the wheel for balance.

A bead of sweat ran down his cheek – the same spot Riku’s hand had been just a few nights ago. His whole hairline was damp, and he could feel it trickle down his back as well.

They were being pulled ever closer to the ship, over waves that seemed to protest against it as well.

This fantasy – of their crew and their quest – was shattering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I sure hope this decision doesn't have consequences...Also this was in my notes for this chapter:  
> Riku: We can’t steal from the navy.  
> Sora: Why not? We stole a girl.  
> Riku: Namine comes from the sea, she can do what she likes.  
> Namine: I want to steal.  
> *  
> I also added like 500 more words to this last night because ShAKESPEARE. But we all have a lot of time on our hands right now, right? I don't want to go into it too much, but I will say that I have to move home from University and am not working..But yeah, I'm safe and I hope all of you are doing okay.  
> As always thank you so so much for all of the comments/kudos/reads etc It really brightens up my day and I'm so glad that this is getting an audience!   
> The next chapter is!! An exciting one!! One that I think about and grin because!! Exciting!!  
> I'll see you next week!! xxx


	10. The Boarding

The Boarding

Sora stood in front of the gangplank as the officers came down it. They filed on, all looking identical in royal blue – copies of one another all charging on board of his ship. The first man down put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him backwards to make room. He tried to dig his heels in, and just stumbled back instead.

“What is this?” He tried to be as commanding as possible. But suddenly he was all too aware that he sounded like a demanding child. That he was a child. These men were all so much larger than him – had his life in their hands. No, they didn’t care about his life – it was stuck to their boot and they got to decide whether to wipe it off or not.

It was like Barbossa’s ship. Like being pushed around as a mascot or a pet.

“You refused to drop anchor,” one of them said.

Sora scowled, shrugging the hand from his shoulder. “Didn’t you see the flag? I said – we have scarlet fever on board, it’s not safe to-”

“That’s him!”

It was a horribly familiar voice. Sora closed his eyes – internally kicking himself – and wished that it wouldn’t be who he thought it was.

Luck was not on his side. There was the French priest-turned-officer, striding down the gangplank. His face had gone back to beetroot and he was pointing a bony finger outwards. He was quivering, as though Sora was a demon possessing him.

“Ah.” He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to sink any lower, but it had evidently grabbed a shovel and was starting to dig. “ _No hablo Ingles?”_

“That boy and his crew of – of degenerates – stole my cargo and left us stranded!” He stalked ever closer. Sora wanted to stand his ground, but he found himself taking a step back towards the cabin. It was scary – the wide eyes, the flaring nostrils, the spit flying from his lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Seize him!”

“You have no right!” Sora tried to side-step one of the officers, just for the second to grab his arm so tightly he had to bite his cheek to stop himself crying out.

“You have been accused of piracy.” The officer shook him for good measure, as he tried to pull away.

“He is. That boy is a heathen pirate!”

That was when Sora realised. This wasn’t a forced boarding. This was an arrest. His arrest. Panic gripped him – just for a moment. Then he remembered Leon, getting him to raise his fists and learn how to fight, after the Scar incident. Sora had rolled his eyes and asked, “how’s a pintsize meant to beat anyone?”

Leon had smiled. And taught him.

His reflexes kicked back against the panic. He leant into the man and swung himself downwards, dislodging the officer. The man stumbled into the priest-officer, whilst the other stepped up to Sora.

He ducked under the man’s arm, thrusting his knee into the back of the man’s leg to topple him over. There were more of them now, and Sora wasn’t thinking about what his next steps were. Surely – he thought, as he stepped back to avoid a man’s grasp – he wouldn’t be able to fight his way through all of them. But maybe, if he could get to his sword – if Riku could fight a little as well – they’d have a shot. Less men had fought against more and come out successful.

But then a woman’s voice cut across the chaos.

“It’s just one boy, you insolent fools!”

The voice was like ice. It froze Sora down to his core, sending shivers up his spine. It was the voice of a tempest.

He tried to shake it off, but the moment of hesitation caused two men to yank his arms again, until it felt like they were coming off of the sockets and he was balancing on tip toes.

A woman was striding down the gangplank. A woman dressed in black, but it couldn’t be in mourning. It was heavily embroidered with dark purple thread that shone in the bright sunlight, giving her the appearance of an iridescent beetle. No, more like a lizard or a snake. The intricately braided dark hair curled around her head like horns, contrasting alarmingly with her pale skin.

Her eyes were fixed on Sora – startingly amber – and her lip was curled upwards.

Riku’s mother. It had to be. He wasn’t sure how exactly he knew, but he was sure of it.

“Was that really so hard?” Her voice was silky, though her eyes were full of contempt as she looked at the naval officer’s either side of him.

“No, my lady,” the officer’s chorused.

It was like Medusa. She’d frozen them all with a glance and for some reason Sora couldn’t find his voice again. He couldn’t move.

And yet – and yet –

“This is the boy?” Her expression did not change as she turned to the priest-officer. He nodded, his mouth curving upwards into a twisted grin as he looked back at Sora. He glared back, as best as he could, trying to think of something witty to say and for once coming up short. “Search the ship. Riku will be here somewhere.”

“And you can take my cargo back, whilst you are at it.”

“He’s not!” Sora’s voice came out in a burst. A thin eyebrow raised and the woman approached with slow steps. He could feel himself turning back to stone, even as he forced himself to keep lying. “He was only on this ship for a night, in Bristol and he left before sunrise…”

His voice trailed off. She was leaning over him, her eyes flashing. It made his throat dry.

As she looked down her nose at him – similar to how Riku had the first night they had met at the drunks – her voice was low and dangerous.

“Lie to me again and I’ll have you whipped.”

Riku flashed in his mind – his arms around his knees and a lost look in his eyes as he admitted that he was ‘clumsy.’

“Have you ever done the same to him?” His voice wavered, but he managed to keep eye contact.

Those amber eyes flashed at him.

He set his jaw.

But she simply flicked her fingers in the air, as though she was swatting a troubling fly, and turned away. “What are you waiting for? Search the ship.”

Sora tried to surge forward, but he was held tight. The men’s hands were large enough to completely circle his arms, and his boots couldn’t find purchase on the boards. He was forced to just watch as the men filed down into the cargo hold.

They stood on the deck – the two officers, Riku’s mother and the Priest-Officer, listening to the thunder of footsteps below. He held his breath, hoping that Little Chief had the good sense to stay out of sight.

The cabin on the far side of the ship was searched too, and one of the sailors poked his head out to say “two hammocks. Both used.”

Riku’s mother raised an eyebrow at Sora. He gritted his teeth.

“Sometimes I let my dog sleep in a hammock.”

The priest-officer snorted. “A dog? On a ship?”

She just flicked her hand again, this time at the Captain’s Cabin.

Sora couldn’t help it – he tried surging forward again, though he knew it was futile. Knew that it gave too much away but if there was a chance – any chance that he could stop them, he would.

The door creaked as they opened it and he fought to keep his expression neutral, but he knew he was failing. All those years mastering bluffs, and he was falling to pieces because of one woman. Well, one woman and a pretty boy.

There was a loud quack from the door.

Donald flew out of the room in a flurry of white feathers, pecking at any hands that tried to grab him furiously. He kicked his webbed feet and batted his wings in the sailor’s faces.

Goofy was out in the next moment, barking in a deep, booming voice. He snarled at the men, also biting at hands. They backed away, and he dodged their grip.

The King wasn’t visible. He wasn’t sure whether that was a relief or not.

“Seize that – _mutt_!” The woman’s voice cut through the air.

It would have been laughable – seeing a dog and a duck cause so much chaos on the deck.

But then a man’s boot collided with Goofy’s head. He yelped.

Sora cried out.

The woman noticed.

Goofy’s collar was grabbed and he was hauled backwards, choking.

“Call them down.” The woman’s eyes slid over to Sora.

He couldn’t. This was a distraction. It could be the way they would fight their way out of this – they had to get out of this if he wanted to save Riku.

The woman nodded. A boot kicked. Goofy yelped again. The words shot out of Sora’s mouth, “down – Goofy! Donald!”

They did. One man caught Donald, holding him at a distance. Bird droppings splattered the deck.

His heart was juddering. He kept hearing that yelp, over and over, as the men barged back into the Captain’s Cabin. They could hear them riffling through everything, though there was no way of them knowing about the secret compartment. They wouldn’t possibly find it. Goofy growled, bearing his teeth at the men around him, and Donald was ruffling his feathers.

An officer stepped out – he had a dark, cropped beard, but that was the only thing that made him stand out against the others. Between his fingers, there was a glint of gold. He handed it over to the woman.

“That’s mine.” Sora pushed against forward again. “That I didn’t steal. It’s mine.”

She wasn’t looking at him. She was examining the seal between her gloved fingers. “Of course, it isn’t. I’d know this seal anywhere. This is Duke Abner’s. A boy like… _you_ could only have taken it.”

Now Sora’s head was swirling as hard as his heart was pounding. A Duke’s seal. But that was his. Why would he have a Duke’s seal?

The men were still searching the cabin. But surely this was it. They’d finish searching and would have to admit that they had been wrong.

But then there was a sudden yell that made Sora’s heart stop. It stopped everything.

One of the officers yelled in response, and there were sounds of a scuffle. He couldn’t believe it. None of this. Surely it wasn’t happening. And yet only a few moments later, the men were coming back out of the cabin, bleeding. They were carrying the stolen sword.

With Riku and Naminé in tow.

They stared at Sora. He stared back. Wishing that he could explain everything. Wishing that he could say with a look how sorry he was. How he had tried – he’d tried running, he’d tried bluffing, he’d tried fighting but none of his tricks were working this time. He’d promised.

Sora never broke promises.

And now he had. This was his fault.

“ _Ri_ ku.” The woman smiled, but it was cold and fixed. It was the kind of smile a porcelain doll would have. She stepped across the deck in a swathe of black, opening her arms to him.

Riku didn’t move. He was standing stiffly, as though there was a poker up his back. His eyes were wide and round. It was the way he had looked in Bristol. Like a rabbit ready to bolt.

“Mother.” His voice was hardly audible.

Drops of rain appeared. A very faint rain.

“There was a secret room. Most ships have them.” It was the bearded officer, and Sora glared at him.

“So, you were being held captive.” She placed her hands on Riku’s cheeks.

“No.” Riku croaked. “He was-”

“We’re members of the Highwind’s crew.” Naminé stepped forward, her chin raised.

The woman only seemed to notice her then. She gave a cry, stepping backwards with her hand over her chest.

“The girl! She’s half-naked!”

Naminé blinked at her, looking fascinated. She had taken to wearing just her petticoat and corset. Sora and Riku hadn’t even noticed.

“When they found me, I was-”

Sora shook his head at her, and her words trailed off. That would only make things worse. The rain was progressing now, turning into a drizzle. The sky was grey and storm clouds had blocked out the sun, turning the world just that bit darker.

“They’re my friends.” Riku found his voice. “Please, they’re-”

His mother flicked her hand again. “Come along. Bring the pirate and the girl.”

Relief passed over Riku’s face. He smiled briefly at Sora, but it faded when him and Naminé were shoved towards the gangplank. His mother hadn’t relented. Nothing had changed.

“We can leave the boat here.” Riku’s mother was speaking to the Priest-Officer.

“Oh, we’ll tow it. Even a boat like… _that_ , could be useful.” He shrugged. “For scrap parts at least.”

“Don’t even think of touching my ship!” Sora tried to surge forward, but he was held fast, his arms pinned behind his back.

Riku stepped off the plank, reaching out a hand to his mother. It hung in the air. “What are you going to do to him?”

Her amber eyes flicked over to him. One eyebrow raised slightly, her lip curled minutely. It was like she could see right through them – just by a single glance.

“He’s a pirate, Riku. He will be hung as soon as we reach port.”

And it was as if she knew the effect her nonchalance would have on him. She strode towards the cabin on the far end of the boat in a swathe of black, looking like an overgrown crow.

Riku looked at Sora. His eyes were still wide – that perfect mix of green and blue. “No. You can’t.”

She stopped. Riku was frozen again. It didn’t even look as though he was breathing.

His mother reached out a hand, running her fingers down the side of his arm. “You must be exhausted. Come.”

Riku swallowed. Didn’t look away from Sora. “Please don’t hang him.”

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes weighing up Sora like she was deciding on a purchase. His breath was hitching in his throat.

“What are you waiting for? Boy to the hold. Girl to my cabin.”

The rain increased again, as if it could sense the impending panic. Fat drops came down like a curtain, settling on the deck below with a patter. That was when the panic kicked in. It seized hold of Sora’s chest – knocked the air out of his lungs and sent his heart bouncing up from the bottom of the ocean to the top of his throat.

No.

Was this really it?

“Riku!” He tried to fight his way forward, even as he was dragged away.

Riku started onward, panic in his eyes. “Sora!”

He dug his heels into the deck. He could only see those sea coloured eyes and he knew that he had to keep them in sight. No matter what.

But the men were stronger, and he stumbled.

Just as men grabbed hold of Riku, trying to tug his arms back.

But he had closed the gap. His mouth smashed into Sora’s.

For a moment, that was the whole world. The whole world was Riku’s lips on his and there was supernova exploding in his chest.

He was kissing Riku. Riku was kissing him.

Then he remembered the hands pulling him away. They were yanked apart and someone was yelling. People were yelling, but Sora couldn’t hear them. His out breath was a sigh.

The only thing he could see were those eyes.

And his lips were still tingling.

*

Riku’s lips were still tingling.

His cheek was smarting too, but it was his lips that he was concentrating on. The look in Sora’s impossibly blue eyes. His mother was speaking, but he couldn’t hear. If he ran a finger over his mouth, would that make the feeling disappear?

“Insanity.” The priest was in the cabin with them, crossing himself every time he looked at Riku. “Claim a random bout of insanity – the boy was starved for days at sea. They were probably drinking sea water – he’s the worst pirate I’ve ever heard of.”

He’d been frogmarched away, neck craning to keep Sora in sight. To yell to Naminé that it was going to be alright.

How could anything be alright? How could they wiggle their way out of this one? They were trapped on a ship with a whole crew of naval officers. They had taken their only sword – they had nothing. It was impossible.

“Are you listening?” His mother’s voice cut through the air.

He forced himself to look up. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“And then there is the matter of the girl. A scandal, surely. To think – the way she was _dressed_.”

“That stays on this ship.” His mother was at the window. She hadn’t looked at him since she had peeled her glove from her fingers and struck it across his face. “She may be the solution to all of our problems.” She half turned back, so Riku knew that she was addressing him. “When we go back to England, we will claim her as our ward. She was an orphan, lost at sea and Riku rescued her from the clutches of pirates. A month later, we’ll announce their engagement. It will clear up any…unsavoury rumours.”

So, she had found out, then. About the latest boy.

“Naminé can’t be kept on land,” Riku found himself saying. “You can’t trap her like that.”

“The girl clearly needs firm discipline. She’s hardly a lady and more like a wild animal.” The Priest’s face was turning cherry coloured again. Riku frowned. “She hit me, you know, with the image of our saviour, Christ himself!”

He found himself standing, his hands on the table. “Naminé is nothing like an animal. She’s the bravest, most agreeable girl I have ever met.”

“And you have so many women to compare her to.” His mother finally moved away from the porthole, though she still didn’t look at him. She raised her hand, and even though it was a slow movement, Riku flinched. She moved like a cobra. It was the only way to describe it.

But she only put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down onto the chair. It had a plush cushion on it – the wood polished so much that it was gleaming.

He’d forgotten this. He’d forgotten this fear that seemed to have seeped into his bones. It had returned – bringing a sick feeling to his stomach and bile to the back of his throat. It was like a gun to his head and he couldn’t believe he had forgotten that.

This had all been a dream, and now he was back to reality.

“You’ve really gotten confused, haven’t you dear?” His mother’s voice was soft. Her fingers ran through his tangled hair and it reminded him of – long ago. Of being small. The times when he was terrified of waking up in the dark until she appeared from it and soothed him. Her voice was almost hypnotic, when it was like this. It was gentle and kind – it only wanted the best for him. “That boy abducted you. And the girl. He was a cruel, soulless pirate who wanted to keep the both of you and sell you onto the highest bidder. You’ve just been rescued. You could’ve been sold off to a sugar plantation, or an old man who wanted young blood in his estate. He was using you, and you’ve so narrowly escaped. It’s a very good thing that we managed to find you when we did.”

A cruel soulless pirate.

He remembered a boy grinning at him with a duck and a dog sat either side of him. A boy hugging him after a storm – the two of them soaked through and windswept but alive. A boy teaching him how to swim – leaning against him in the tavern – sitting next to him on the beach, telling him there was nothing wrong with him. Taking his side.

It wasn’t the first time he didn’t fall for his mother’s turn of events. But it was the first time he shook his head. Openly disagreed. Usually he fell into the cover story – to protect their name and their dignity.

His mother shushed him, still combing through his hair. It was ridiculously tangled – maybe it would be an excuse to finally cut it.

“How did you find us?” His voice was hoarse.

She ran a knuckle down his cheek. Over the spot her glove had made impact with.

“Governor Frollo is a dear friend of mine, I’ve told you about him before. He contacted me and told me he’d seen you.”

Riku frowned. “But – that was only a few days ago.”

“Dear, you’ve been missing for weeks. I was expecting you for the holidays. And it wasn’t as if the pirate had any brains. You were spotted in Morocco – an officer there sent word. And Bristol. It was simple enough to track you down.”

But that was Commodore Scar. And Barbossa. His mother had never mentioned knowing them – never mentioned knowing any Governor Frollo. He didn’t think so, but he had never paid close enough attention to names and social circles. Nevertheless, it didn’t make sense. That was a pirate, a Spanish Commodore and a French Governor.

And he knew the Highwind was a fast ship. Even with their pitstop, a ship the size of this one shouldn’t have been able to catch up. Not with so little notice on where they were going –

How did she know the direction they were headed? How had this ship managed to find them when there was all of the ocean to look through? The gap between Morocco and the rest of the world was vast and they had made good speed since leaving Frollo’s ship.

It didn’t make sense. His mind was whirring with numbers, but he didn’t know the speeds or distances to fill in.

“You’re safe now, dear. You’ve been rescued.”

Part of him was tempted to believe it. Tempted to believe the familiar, soft voice. It was comforting, especially over the sound of the downpour outside. Had he been tricked? Sora was a good actor, he knew that. Had seen him trick several people now.

But there was a more rational side to him. The thought lasted a moment, before he knew it was false. There were different sides to Sora, but Riku had seen them now. Had seen the half-drunk boy on the beach telling him about when he was a kid and tried to save a duck.

The quite drunk boy last night looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. Mouth slightly open. A hushed voice. Asking with every action if he could kiss him.

He hadn’t been rescued by the navy. He had been captured.

“Where are we headed?” He asked.

“New York. The quickest place to make port. We’ll leave that pirate and this whole nasty affair behind us.”

The image of Sora’s boots jerking in mid-air appeared in his mind. He couldn’t breathe. The fear was worse than ever – as though he had been submerged in ice.

His mother’s hand moved to his jaw. Pushed it back so that he was looking up at her.

“And then we’ll be back in England. And you _will_ fix an engagement with that girl if you have any hope of saving your reputation.”

Her fingers were pressed so tightly that it ached. He gritted his jaw.

And it was at that moment that King Mickey decided to poke his head out of Riku’s collar. He felt him appear, and then leap from his collarbones to his mother’s hand. She shrieked and pulled away. For a moment, he had the brief image of the tiny, black rat biting her hand.

Then the King was flying across the room. He landed on a chest, dazed, and Riku pushed himself across the room to recover him. If he couldn’t move for himself, at least he would save the King.

“A _rat_!”

“He’s a mouse,” Riku said, making shooing motions with his hands. The chest was placed on a side table, and next to it was the familiar gold seal. He hoped that his back blocked out that he was letting King Mickey crawl back up his sleeve. He took the seal too, just for good measure – for something to remember Sora by.

The bundle of fur nestled itself against his wrist, and it soothed some of the panic in him. It made the ice melt just a tiny bit. Maybe he wasn’t separated from _all_ of his allies after all. And as long as he had the King, then he felt like there was hope.

He cleared his throat, and pointed at the huge wardrobe. “It went under there.”

“What are you thinking – letting vermin inside your-”

Riku let the words wash over him. His eyes were on the watch that had been placed next to the seal. A silver watch. The same watch he’d been seeing a lot lately. His mother and Frollo may have been acquaintances, but it still seemed strange. There was something here he wasn’t seeing.

There was a lot here he wasn’t seeing.

But suddenly, he didn’t mind the little paws and the naked tail so much. It was comforting. He had a friend.

For the first time, he wasn’t standing alone against his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): This chapter is a little shorter than normal, but given what happens I think it's a fair trade-off?   
> But now you know why I was so excited about it! >U<  
> ALSO the art WAS NOT done by me - it was sent in by Sandy Selina and it's so?? Cute?? Show some love to them down in the comments please!! <3  
> .  
> I've actually been getting a bit of writer's block with this one...but that shouldn't really affect you guys because I'm typing up chapter 17, so...Now that we know for certain what's happening in the UK, I feel like I can really get down to writing. (It's been a mad few weeks.)  
> Of course, I've also got Animal Crossing SO...I am not being productive...If anyone wants my friend code its SW-6032-8406-1822 BUT if you do add me, leave a comment down below saying you have so I know who you are. vuv   
> If anyone has any bamboo/pears I will be eternally grateful.  
> As always thanks so so much for reading/kudos-ing/commenting!! I hope this was a good kind of hurt?? Hopefully!  
> And I'll see you all next week!


	11. The Escape

The Escape

There was food on the plate before him, but he didn’t touch it.

Naminé hadn’t touched hers, either. She had remained quiet, watching the people around the table with those blue eyes. Listening to everything that his mother and Governor Frollo were discussing.

“We were headed to New York,” she said, eventually. Her voice cut across the room.

Riku looked up from his hands. His chest was still aching – mourning all three of them at the same time, as if Sora was already dead.

The adults looked surprised that she had spoken at all. His mother was the first to recover, raising an arched eyebrow at her.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Riku wanted to see the city. I wanted to draw it.”

The eyebrow piqued higher. “You draw?”

“I love to.”

He could see the cogs in his mother’s mind whirring. Naminé drew – that meant she had accomplishments as a lady. It made her just slightly more suitable for him.

“When we return to England we will hire a tutor for you.”

“We?” Naminé blinked. “Me too?”

“Of course, dear.” His mother’s voice was as sweet as honey. “You’re as much a victim in all of this.”

“Of course.” Naminé turned to Riku. “Would you pass the salt, please?”

He did, his limbs feeling heavy. It was as if he’d been flying for these last few weeks, and now he had crashed to the ground.

Even with her food seasoned, Naminé didn’t touch it. As she placed the shaker back on the table, Riku saw a corner of paper sticking out from under it.

Governor Frollo had started a rant on modern art – he couldn’t tell if the man approved of it or thought it sinful, but it was a distraction. He slid the shaker across the table until the paper fell into his lap. After adding salt to the meat in front of him for good measure, he unfolded the it.

It was a doodle. Of him climbing out of his porthole. Then ‘11’ written in a shaky hand.

He crumbled it in his fist and placed it back in his pocket.

At least one of them had a plan.

Riku found that the knot in his stomach had eased. He could manage a few mouthfuls of meat, a few of potato. Some he poked up his sleeve for King Mickey, some he smuggled into his pocket, wrapped in the handkerchief.

And eventually, the ordeal of dinner was over.

He was escorted back to his cabin, and he heard the key turn in the lock behind him. It was a proper cabin – with a proper bed and a desk wedged in. There was a mirror fixed onto the wall, and a pocket watch left on the desk, but otherwise the room was completely empty. Nothing for him to use to escape, he supposed.

The pocket watch was plain. He left it where it was.

The mirror caught his eye as he passed it. He stared at himself, hating how familiar the reflection was. He was leaner, slightly, but otherwise he looked exactly the same as when he had left. His hair was tied back with ribbon, Sora’s clothes replaced with the latest fashions. New shirt, new heavily embroidered waistcoat – green because his mother insisted that was the colour of his eyes, new overcoat, new breeches, new boots that were too small. There was a mark on his cheek – a swollen lump on his cheekbone that was pebbled with purple and yellow. It throbbed, dully.

It was just like he had told Sora. Everything was exactly the same. And that was the worst part of all.

But then the King’s round ears appeared from his collar. No, not exactly the same. On the inside, he was different. He sat down and waited for eleven o’clock, practically willing the watch’s hands to move faster as he stroked Mickey’s tiny head.

All he could think about was the boarding – could only think about what he could have done to save them. What he should have done to change everything. There were so many things he could have done.

Surely, there must have been something he could have said to avoid this. Several things.

Several arguments with his mother that would no doubt result in the same lump on his cheekbone.

Maybe they were meant to be here all along. Back where they started.

When the short hand finally pointed at eleven, he stood on heavy legs. The room seemed vast as he stepped forward and unlatched the porthole.

His heart sank down through the bottom of the ship. They’d posted a guard right outside his room – of course they had – how had he thought this would be so simple?

But then the guard looked up. And he saw familiar blue eyes. A flash of blonde hair.

It was _Namin_ _é_.

And he had to admit, the uniform suited her.

“Come on,” she whispered.

Riku clambered out of the porthole. It took a lot of manoeuvring of shoulders and knees – it was the only time he would have preferred to be Sora’s size.

He fell to the deck in a heap, but he was out.

“How?” was all he could ask, scrambling upright. His new clothes had a tear in already, and a fair amount of soot and grease from the window pane.

“I screamed and said I saw a rat, and then hit him over the head with a candlestick,” Naminé said. It was still raining steadily, and the water settled on her naval jacket. It had been coated with wax, and Riku wished his own coat had been treated similarly. “I stole his clothes – they’re easier to move in than all of those layers. Then I just put on a gruff voice and made up stories to get the men away from their posts.”

“You’re a genius.”

“We don’t have long before they realise something’s wrong.” She took his hand, tugging him down the deck. “Keep your head down! They’ll see you!”

So Riku ducked his head down, all too aware that his silvery hair would be a beacon in the night. He stepped quickly, his boots protesting. It didn’t help that it was raining harder than before. The deck was slippery and it was hard to see.

The entrance to the crew’s quarters were unguarded. Naminé pulled him inside and bundled him down a staircase. They both stumbled down, limbs flying out in the dark.

They were just in time – voices came from above them.

Riku pulled Naminé to a halt, and they wobbled as they tried not to make a sound.

Two men were moving through the corridors above them, mumbling nonsense about rats and guard duty. Naminé clutched his shirt, her breath faint in his ear. The stair creaked beneath them.

Eventually, the voices faded.

“Sora’s down here,” Naminé whispered, pulling away.

Riku’s heart skipped a beat. He half-fell down the rest of the stairs and into the brig. There was a coil of rope that tripped him as he hurried along, eyes scanning the darkness for which cell had –

Only one was occupied; there were three shapes against the back wall.

“Sora!” Riku hissed.

Naminé was fiddling with one of the hanging lanterns, and it fizzed to life as the shape looked up. A dim amber light illuminated Sora as he leapt to his feet and across the cell in a single step. Donald and Goofy surged forward too. Goofy gave a low bark. He was shushed quickly by Naminé. Riku stooped to scratch him under his chin to get him to pant instead. Donald, on the other hand, plucked his bootlaces undone from inside the cell.

Sora clutched the bars, grinning.

“Riku!” Then his face fell, as Riku straightened up. “Blimey – your –“

His fingers grazed the mark on Riku’s cheek, his expression softening.

“Your _face_.” It was like a punch to the gut. He barely thought of his hand going to Sora’s chin, his thumb running over the split lip. There was a lump on his eyebrow too, swollen as a large as an egg, so that one eye was barely open.

“Oh, that was just.” Sora leant down, into the touch. “They just got angry about a boy kissing a boy. I think they were just jealous that I got so lucky.”

Riku chuckled under his breath. “You – goose.”

“I’ve had worse.” Sora’s spare hand curled around Riku’s. He looked up, his eyes glittering in the candle-light. He pressed closer to the bars, as close as he could get.

Riku leant forward, tilting his head downwards.

They kissed. Electric surged through Riku and he leant back to make it two. Three.

“I’m sorry.” Sora whispered. “I told you everything was going to be okay.”

“Everything is.” As long as they were together, they would be okay. And that included Naminé. Riku stepped back from the bars. She was waiting with her eyebrows raised, her arms crossed. “What’s the plan?”

“I only got this far,” Naminé said. “And that’s further than either of you got.”

“Naminé, do you have a hairpin? Two hairpins?” Sora asked, eyeing the curl of gold that disappeared under her hat.

She nodded, and took it off, plucking them from her hair and dislodging the style.

Sora took them and began fiddling with the lock. His fingers moved deftly – dark in the dim light.

They held the lantern closer, but his eyes were upwards. He was listening intently, as though the pins were speaking in a language only he could understand. As he worked, he bit his lip, making the split bleed. A drop of blood sat on his lower lip. Riku couldn’t stop staring at it.

Then the padlock sprung open and Sora was pushing the door of the cell open. He stooped to pick up Donald, carrying him under one arm. Naminé had found the rope that had tripped Riku, and tied it around Goofy’s neck as a makeshift lead.

“If we can get back to our boat, we’ll cast off,” Sora whispered. Though Donald was starting to kick up a fuss and it was hard to hear him over the ruffling feathers. “They shouldn’t notice we’re missing until tomorrow, it gives us half a day’s head start.”

“And they think we’re going to New York, thanks to Naminé,” Riku said. It clicked, why she had given away their plan at dinner.

Naminé nodded, a triumphant smile on her face, then she blew out the lantern, and lead them back up the stairs.

There was an oar at the top of the staircase, illuminated by the moonlight outside. There was a crack of lightning in the distance.

“Funny,” one of the guards said. “Storm coming on so suddenly like this.”

Storm coming on suddenly. That seemed familiar. Riku didn’t give himself time to think about it, he stepped forward and whacked the oar out once – twice – two bodies fell to the floor with a thump.

Sora punched his shoulder as he paused, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Riku wanted to lean forward and kiss him again, but his breath was caught in his throat. He couldn’t move.

They were at the back of the ship, under the eye of the man at the helm. The Highwind was being against the Starboard side – they would be in full view as they ran to it.

As soon as he thought it, thick black clouds covered the moon. The deck was in pitch black, and the rain was coming down even heavier. It was in thick sheets now.

Luck? Magic? He wasn’t about to question it.

The three managed to find the railing, running their hands along it until they found the rope keeping the Highwind at the ship’s side.

“Keep hold of the rope – use the hull of the ship to place your feet. When you’re level with the Highwind, you’ll have to make a leap across to it,” Sora whispered.

Riku and Naminé nodded. His heart was racing at the thought. He didn’t think his hands would stop shaking long enough to grip the rope.

“What about Goofy?” Naminé asked.

Sora half-tossed Donald off the side. There was the sound of flapping wings as he no doubt made his way down to the ship below.

“I’ll carry him on my shoulders.”

“No,” Riku said. “I’ll do it. I’m stronger.”

He couldn’t see Sora’s face, but he knew that he was raising an eyebrow and grinning crookedly. “Oh, are you, now?”

“Less flirting, more climbing!” Naminé hissed. She had already disappeared over the side, practically sliding down the side of the boat.

Sora went next, just as sure footed.

So Riku hoisted Goofy over his shoulders and followed suit. He moved slowly, keeping one hand on Goofy’s back as much as he could to stop the dog from falling. It was a heavy weight, especially because of the rain and his heart stopped every time his boot slipped on the wood.

How had it come to this? How was this normal? How was this what he _wanted_ to do? Maybe it would be best to go back to England. He liked Naminé enough – a marriage wouldn’t be the end of the world. His life would be sorted.

But it would mean forgetting about Sora. And just looking at her would remind him of the boy. It would be impossible. Impossible to leave Sora when his chest felt like _this_ when he was around him. He could never be happy in a life like that.

If happiness meant abseiling down the side of a ship, with a dog on his shoulders, then so be it.

Lightning cracked again, illuminating his way for him. He tightened his grip on the dog, gritted his teeth –

And leapt.

His ankles screamed as he landed on the Highwind’s deck, even as he bent his knees to cushion the fall. Goofy leapt from his arms, but it still took a moment for him to get his breath back.

They didn’t need to discuss it. Naminé ran across the deck and untied their ship, Riku unfurled the sails and Sora handed the helm. Within minutes, they were sailing, curving around the bow of the Naval ships and in the opposite direction.

Once they were on course – Sora disappeared into the cabin, half-falling down the stairs. Donald and Goofy took refuge in there immediately – the rain was still relentless.

Riku waited a moment, taking hold of the helm. But he was impatient. When they had been separated, he had felt empty and there was something that panicked when Sora left his sight now. They weren’t out of the clear. He was expecting the navy to turn and chase them down. They could catch up to them the next day, or the day after.

If freedom was only temporary, then he would have to make the most of it.

He handed the wheel to Naminé and stumbled down the stairs as well.

Sora was frowning, staring at a map laid out on the table and tapping a compass impatiently. A collection of candles lit the room. Little Chief was sat at the edge of it all, rubbing his hands together and watching Sora.

“Need some help?” Riku asked, stepping closer.

Sora glanced up at him. “Putting that Harrow education to good use?”

“Oh, shush.” Their arms pressed together as he turned his attention to the maps. There were marks in a cluster, halfway across the ocean. It was a confusing muddle, and mathematics seemed like a far off-dream. Something someone else had studied.

It was hard to guess just how far the navy boat had managed to travel and just where they were now. And it was hard to think straight when he could smell the sea salt in Sora’s hair. When he could feel him pressed up next to him, their hands dancing over each other on the parchment.

“We’ll just keep heading south west,” Sora said, eventually. “We’ll hit the West Indies eventually, and from there we’ll head to Havanna.”

“Right.” Riku’s mind was still stuck on how close they were. How his arm was practically around Sora’s shoulders and it would only take a nudge for his chin to rest on top of Sora’s head. A nudge to kiss the top of Sora’s head. He hesitated, looking down at the tangle of hair –

Just as Sora looked up. He smiled, turning into him and slowly raising his hand. It hovered over his chest.

“I like the new clothes.” His hand landed. It was warm. Right over Riku’s heart.

Riku shrugged. “Prefer the ones sewn by a boy.”

The smile widened, and then Sora winced. He put a hand to his split lip, frowning and sighing.

“Been a while,” he said.

“Yeah.” His cheek stung more now that it was against the open air. “I know how that feels.”

“It was in Nassau. Someone called my friend a street rat.”

“Did you win?”

Sora wiped his mouth. “Kinda.”

He found himself chuckling. It was a relief – like it had been years since he had when it was less than a day. But he had fallen in love with this so quickly – fallen in love with the boy in front of him so quickly – and he couldn’t believe that it had almost disappeared.

Sora’s hand stayed on Riku’s chest. There was a shared, long breath between them.

And panic appeared, suddenly.

The kiss had changed things. The kiss meant that this – something – was _something_. It meant something.

He didn’t have a lot of experience with this meaning something. And he wasn’t sure what their next steps were. This had always been something untouchable and Riku had no idea how to handle it.

“Oh, I – my mother kept this.” Riku searched in his pocket for the golden seal and brought it out.

It brought the glitter back into Sora’s eyes. His fingers closed around it – around Riku’s.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“What is it?”

“It’s…the seal of a Duke, according to…your mother.” He rolled the seal, his eyes on the crest at the bottom. “I never knew that. It was just –” Sora bit his lip, glancing up for a moment. “This is what I was found with in Havanna.”

Riku hesitated. “Your parents?”

Sora took a breath. “Don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“From what I’ve seen, parents are overrated.” Sora’s gaze was on his hand – on Riku’s chest. The waistcoat was tighter than it really should be.

He looked up, slowly, examining Riku’s features, as though he was trying to commit them to memory.

Then he took a sharp intake of breath.

“We can’t leave Naminé alone in a storm.” He stepped forward, back out onto the deck.

The something still hung between them.

And it seemed both of them were scared to touch it.

*

The storm helped. The wind roared in the sails and the waves themselves seemed to push them forward.

And yet it passed just as quickly as it had appeared.

It was the middle of the night, but they couldn’t afford to stop. They had to take as big of an advantage of this head start as they could.

At least the sun had started to rise. They were backed by an amber light, turning the world into pale oranges and black shadows.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Riku shook out his hair, running his fingers through it. Silver strands clung to his cheeks. “They shouldn’t have been able to find us as quickly as they did. Even if they left England the day we did.”

He was right. Sora hadn’t been thinking of that – had only been thinking of how to get away from them and not how they had gotten there in the first place.

“We weren’t exactly subtle. If they bumped into Scar on the way-”

“No one should have left Bristol for a week because of the storm. And what are the odds of bumping into the one ship that knew we had stopped in Morocco?”

“Slim.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Riku repeated.

Lots of things didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense how they were caught, if Riku had been so careful to lead everyone on a wild goose chase. It didn’t make sense that Sora had the wax seal that belonged to a Duke. It didn’t make sense that a storm had appeared as soon as they were in trouble –

“The weather’s been weird,” he said. “Did you notice that?”

Riku paused. “Yeah.”

The sun was behind him and it was making the leftover raindrops still clinging to Riku glow.

Sora swallowed. He’d found something worse than the before – this was knowing that they both felt the same way and being terrified anyway. He didn’t want to repeat the few past experience’s he’d had. That was all awkward fumbling and too much honesty – too many emotions on his side when there wasn’t as many on the other.

This couldn’t be ruined.

“They think we’re going to New York,” Riku continued. “Thanks to Naminé.”

She was leaning on the railing, staring out at the horizon, but for once she was frowning. There was a sharp line between her brows.

“The storm stopped when we got away,” Naminé said. “Do you think that was us or them?”

It went without saying that it was more than a coincidence.

“Let’s hope it was us,” Sora said. “And let’s hope they start looking for us in New York.”

“Maybe we should keep a low profile?” Riku suggested.

Sora looked sideways at him. He was smirking – to his surprise, relief flowed through him at that. Riku was smirking again. It was like nothing had changed.

Maybe Riku was wrong. Maybe that could be the best thing, sometimes.

“Low profiles are dull,” Sora said.

“I just want you to keep your head on your shoulders. Captain.” Riku was shaking out his hair. They’d washed it, or at least combed it on board and it looked like silk. What would it be like to touch it? To run his hands through it? The thought made his fingers itch.

It didn’t help that the ‘captain’ made Sora grin – which sent his split lip stinging again. He winced, and tried to keep his eyes on the horizon.

But he could still feel Riku’s gaze on him. He could feel his cheeks warming. Blushing. Riku was actually making him _blush._ Hopefully his tan was dark enough to cover it.

Then Riku cleared his throat. “I’m going to get changed.”

His voice was thick and Sora was dying to know if he was red too. The sunburn had just about disappeared, and Riku was back to being part cherry tomato every time he got the slightest bit flustered– but he didn’t trust himself.

“Get some sleep, whilst you’re down there.”

“I couldn’t.”

“I’ll have Naminé.” Sora jerked his head towards her, still keeping his eyes firmly forward. “You’ve been up all night, Riku. Rest.”

He watched the figure walk across the deck and felt a tightness in his chest. It was a two sided request. Yes, Riku needed sleep – they all needed sleep and until they were sure they wouldn’t be caught, they would have to sail in turns.

But Sora was also saying that he didn’t want to share a room right now. Which was true. He was sure if he slept in a hammock just across the room from Riku he would lose his mind.

Naminé waited until Riku had disappeared, until she said, as bluntly as she could, “Riku said you weren’t courting.”

He’d have preferred another round of the navy punching him in the gut.

“Riku’s – right.” He managed to choke out.

“I didn’t think people who weren’t courting kissed.”

“It’s complicated.”

Naminé tilted her head to one side. She was smiling, as if she knew something he didn’t know. The early morning sun was turning her hair orange – turning her into Kairi and Sora felt his heart squeeze itself into a devil’s tongue knot.

“Is it?” she asked. She even sounded like her now. “Because Riku seems to be head over heels for you and you seem to be head over heels for Riku, so how complicated can it be?”

Sora took a breath. “Riku’s different. He grew up different. I’m not a part of his world.”

“I don’t think he wants anything from his world.” Naminé paused. They were both watching the door, but Riku hadn’t reappeared. He must have taken Sora’s advice and gone to sleep after all. “There are some things you just know, right? I know that he wants to court you.”

He adjusted the wheel slightly. Took another deep breath. She was right – of course, she was right. But if it was actually Kairi here, he didn’t think she would say the same thing.

That was the thought that was making guilt creep into his stomach. He was meant to be searching for Kairi. He was not supposed to be making moon eyes at rich boys. He had a mission – a quest. For the first time ever, he had something to search for – a purpose – but he was finding it hard to focus on.

It didn’t help that their clue happened to be sentient. Happened to be his friend.

When they found Kairi – what would happen to Naminé?

It was all too much. Too much pressure and too much responsibility and too many big decisions where there didn’t seem to be a right answer.

“We,” he stumbled over his explanation. “We’re just-”

“Cowards?”

He sighed. Feeling the weight on his shoulders and chest but unable to dislodge it.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

*

Naminé had gone to bed by the time Riku stumbled out of the cabin. Back in sea clothes, which gave Sora a droop of disappointment. The waistcoat had been like magic – had brought out his chest and waist and made his eyes glitter like a cat’s.

It had made Sora think of them meeting differently. In high society – maybe at a ball – of clever flirting and touches exchanged whilst dancing with ladies. Of – perhaps less romantically – kissing each other senseless in a broom cupboard or wardrobe. Of discarding each other’s fancy clothes in a hurry.

Or maybe Sora was a half-decent pirate after all and could snatch Riku right from that high society to be his own – maybe a masked ball – seeing Riku’s green eyes glittering from behind a mask – he imagined smirking.

Of offering his hand to Riku and helping him through a window. Stopping to kiss behind every bush they saw as they ran from high society and decadence.

“You’re falling asleep at the wheel.” Riku’s hand hovered above his shoulder, but didn’t quite touch it.

“Hm?” He hadn’t noticed. Maybe he had been dozing for a while – maybe they were completely off course – he was too stunned. There was Riku. Standing in front of him. Not imagined. It still felt as though there was a dozen different Riku’s in his head, all smiling at him, just like that. “No, I’m fine.”

He was propping his head up with his hands, controlling the wheel with his elbows, so it came out more like ‘nnh, ‘m fine.’

“Sora, you need to sleep.” Now Riku’s hand did touch down, peeling him gently away from the wheel. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“I’m the Captain,” he muttered, clinging onto the wood in front of him. “I’m the one who drives.”

“I’m sure Naminé and I can manage sailing in a straight line for a few hours.”

Sora shook his head. He could feel himself pouting as he looked up at Riku. Those eyes weren’t green – they were blue, surely.

"Don't give me that look." Riku squeezed his shoulders, gently. "It's for your own good. To help you."

It was hard to say no, suddenly. It was hard to say no to those eyes and that face.

But there was still little fight in him. Enough fight for him to dart forward and wrap his arms around Riku. He allowed himself a moment - just to hear his heartbeat.

"Goodnight, master Riku."

He heard Riku give a sharp intake of breath. Then his arms went around Sora - just for a moment.

"Sleep well, Sora."

But then he was away, pushing Sora towards the far end of the deck, and stepping up to the wheel.

As soon as he was in the cabin, he collapsed into the hammock.

And fell back into dreaming of a dozen Rikus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Hopefully this makes up for the last chapter somewhat?  
> But it's still going to be a bit before we get there.  
> I'm honestly still struggling with writing the latest chapters, but I'm hoping that I'll fall back into the swing of it. (Animal Crossing is VERY distracting but it's starting to ease off now.)  
> As always, thank you so so much for reading/commenting/kudos-ing etc. Stay safe and I'll see you next week!! xx


	12. The Billiards Game

The Billiards Game

When Sora woke, it was the middle of the night. Wind rattled the glass in the porthole and nearly blew him over when he ventured onto the deck.

Naminé was sat at the prow, seemingly unbothered by the weather.

"I was starting to get excited to see Havanna - it's a whole new place, isn't it? And then this happened."

The wind blew her hair in tangles around her face.

"Well, if it is you then it will get us there faster." Sora called back. It wasn't impossible - not anymore impossible than what happened to them already. Even if it had happened a week ago then he would have accepted Naminé controlling the sea just as easily.

But now that meant acknowledging that something was after them. That the navy had caught up to them using something otherworldly of their own.

And that scared him.

He wanted to believe it was her, but he couldn’t help thinking that it was around the time the Navy would have realised they were missing.

Riku was at the wheel, trying to read a star chart and keep them on course. Sora didn't think about it, he helped steady the paper and put one hand on the wheel. Then he remembered the kiss - kisses - this terrifying awkwardness that still sat between them - and was tempted to jump off the side.

"Thank you," Riku said.

"Told you that you couldn't be trusted with my course."

"I'm managing just fine."

Sora hesitated. They were close enough that Riku's hair tickled his cheek as it caught the wind. "Your turn to sleep."

"I'm alright for now."

"Give me back my helm!" He tried to barge his way sideways, only managing to budge Riku an inch. Riku was stronger than him - of course he was, and he only had to nudge his elbow out to knock Sora backwards.

"That's no way to ask.” Riku was smirking.

"I'm the Captain." He tried pushing against Riku’s shoulder again, and only got a chuckle in response.

"Captains should have manners."

Sora frowned. Riku’s smirk widened. He gave Sora a triumphant looking, then turned his eyes back on the horizon.

So, Sora waited a moment. Then ducked under an arm to take the wheel, digging his heels in and pushing against Riku's back to make room for himself.

Riku was laughing, still clinging on somehow, and his breath ruffled Sora's hair. It was almost enough to make him freeze where he was.

Naminé looked back at them from the prow and raised her eyebrows.

Sora couldn't meet her gaze. He suddenly felt warm again, even though the night air was cool.

To make everything worse, he felt a sudden weight against his head. Riku was _resting_ his chin on him. His hands moved to the spokes either side Sora’s hands, so that their arms were flush against each other’s. He was surrounded by Riku, and that was incredible. They smelt the same – of sweat and the sea, but it was different coming from Riku.

This felt safe. It made Sora’s heart race and his face feel ridiculously hot, but he also felt _safe_. The last time he’d felt so safe – so _small_ \- was years ago –on _The Wayfinder,_ just after Ventus had disappeared.

Disappeared.

Suddenly.

Like Kairi. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of it before – never made the connection – but they both disappeared so suddenly.

His thoughts scattered completely when Riku murmured into his hair, “I was really worried about you, Sora.”

Maybe he was still dreaming. “I was really worried about you too.”

“I wasn’t the one they wanted to hang.”

He wanted to turn around. He was desperate to – to see the look on Riku’s face. To let him see that Sora had been scary – scared of hanging, scared of dying – but that he had been terrified for Riku. That he could get over his adventure being cut short, if Riku’s wasn’t.

But looking back at him now? That was the most terrifying of all.

Instead, he leant back, slightly. Just to see if Riku would pull away if Sora pressed more of his weight against him.

Riku didn’t.

*

They sailed constantly, to minimize the risk of being caught up to. And they steered in shifts, so they only really saw each other when the sun rose or set.

Sora took to sleeping in the day and staying up all night. But as the weather warmed – as they got further south, he napped out on the deck, like a cat. He usually had his arm slung over his eyes and his mouth open slightly, and yet Riku couldn’t tear his gaze away from him. It didn’t help that Sora’s shirt hitched up too, exposing a few inches of tanned stomach.

Maybe it was an accident the first time. But then it became a habit. He must have known – maybe he had peeked through golden lashes to watch Riku watching him instead of the ocean.

Naminé kept Donald and Goofy entertained in the mornings, but napped in the afternoons – staying up late and then sleeping again. Riku was sure it was so she could pester both him and Sora at their sleepiest, when she wasn’t getting the animals to pose for her drawings. The ones of King Mickey and Donald came out well, but she still couldn’t get the hang of Goofy’s hind legs.

It only took a few days for a collection of islands to appear on the horizon.

“Land ahoy!” Sora yelled. He took hold of Goofy’s paws, pulling him onto two feet and making his dance. “Land ahoy – we’re coming home!”

Donald fluttered around them, quacking angrily, until Sora caught him and swung him round too, orange legs kicking at the air.

“How long has it been?” Riku leant his cheek into his hand, resting his elbow on the wheel.

Sora paused, still keeping hold of Donald. They both tilted their heads to the side, considering the question.

“Since Kairi,” Sora said. “So too long.”

Kairi. That was why there were here. Why they were doing this. That was what mattered most to Sora – and of course it did.

Riku needed to remember that.

By the end of the day, they were making port. Naminé had taken the wheel in the afternoon and ordered them both to get some rest so that for once they could all be awake at the same time. To “celebrate properly this evening.”

Sora slept on the deck. Riku slept in the cabin. He was sure that hadn’t been what she had in mind. Sure that it was all a ploy to get them to talk to each other.

What could he possibly say?

“Nassau!” Sora let the gangplank down with a triumphant thud.

“I thought we were aiming for Havanna?”

“It’s closer – closer than I thought we’d get. And we spent plenty of time here too.” The smile froze on Sora’s face. “When we were a little older – closer to when she went.” His face brightened – but it was a forced grin. Riku could recognise them now. “Which makes it the perfect place to start!”

Naminé cheered and demanded a tour of the whole island. It made sense. They were here to help her find Kairi's memories.

It felt like they Riku was invading something private.

"Smartly now." Sora held out a hand. Naminé took it first, but he kept it extended when she was safely on land. "Master Riku."

He scoffed, but couldn’t resist the opportunity. He took Sora’s hand.

There was a moment, when they were both on the dock, that he kept hold of it. Then Sora let his fingers pull away.

Nassau was green. Green spiked up between the houses, creeping into civilization in tufts. It was as if the world had become brighter - the sky was brighter and the greens were bolder. The people wore bright cottons with patterns - in skins of every shade. Walking along beside each other as though it was nothing.

Maybe Riku was still dreaming. Maybe he’d drowned when he’d jumped from boat to boat.

If this was death, he could live with it.

"We'll have to get money, of course." The back of Sora's hand brushed against Riku's as they walked. Once, twice. "We've got no supplies - they took everything but the food."

"Which no doubt means we'll get in trouble for cheating."

"This is Nassau. It's a pirate city. We'll be fine." Sora shrugged. "Most folks are so drunk by six that they won't even realise they've been swindled."

"So you're tricking them?" Naminé had kept the petticoat and stays, but still had the naval coat she had stolen on.

"Yes. He's tricking them."

"That doesn't sound like something Yuffie and Leon would be happy about."

"Look." Sora grabbed their hands, pulling them to a stop in front of them. "Any pirate will cheat at cards. Most _gentlemen_ cheat at cards. You don't want to find that out the hard way. And it's not like we have much to bet with, so I'm doing the only thing I know how to do. We have to survive. That's the most important thing."

They nodded, slowly. Riku had never seen him this serious - this earnest. He seemed almost angry.

Which wasn't new, he realised, Sora had been angry when the navy had caught up with them. He had been shaking, his face ashen and a desperate spark in his eye.

"And anyway, people think that a man loving a man is wrong. Right is relative."

Which was true. Riku found himself nodding again, Naminé doing the same beside him.

Sora gave a final nod. Then they continued.

He didn't drop their hands.

They wandered through the city as the sun set. It brought relief from the light, but not the humidity. Mosquitoes flocked to them in droves. The air felt sticky and heavy, but Sora looked overjoyed to be here.

Eventually he found the tavern that he was searching for. It looked out over half the town - over the sea. The view was breathtaking - something from an adventure book or imagined painting - not something real.

It was the noise which broke the illusion. Sora had been right – everyone was drunk. They chatted loudly, laughed loudly, played cards, drank, arm wrestled loudly. Bottles seemed to smash every five seconds, but no one seemed to care.

It felt like the first time he had walked into a tavern, back in Bristol.

He hadn’t known Sora or Namine then. Now, he felt like an entirely different person.

“And what are _we_ supposed to do whilst you swindle as many people as possible?” Riku leant closer to Sora, raising his voice to be heard.

Sora’s blue eyes sparkled at him. “You can both sit on my knee and look pretty.”

Which, he knew, turned his face scarlet. There was a moment where he couldn’t move. To catch up with them both, he moved quickly, pushing through pirates picking fights with each other. Sora had already slid into a table, was already smiling and dealing cards.

Naminé stood on her tiptoes, so that she could ask in his ear, “can we go outside?”

Riku nodded, taking her hand and keeping a tight hold of it as they fought their way through the crowd. He stopped several times, letting her catch up, or pushing someone out of her way. She was so little, it was like holding onto a leaf in a heavy wind.

But they eventually made it onto the veranda. It was emptier, and quieter – the noise from inside muffled.

“Are you alright?” Riku asked her. Her face was flushed down to her neck.

“I don’t like it,” she admitted. “It’s loud – it’s full of people – I can’t breathe.”

“Try – try to – here, sit down.” He pulled out a chair and Naminé half-collapsed into it. “Um – you’re alright now.”

Naminé shook her head. Her breaths came in quick, panicked gasps and she was squeezing Riku’s hand to tightly that it hurt. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, catching the sun so that they sparkled like diamonds.

There was a long few minutes that passed where Riku could only hold onto her hand and hope that she wasn’t dying. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say that wasn’t stupid or obvious – try to breathe? Try to calm down? And yet he had no idea what to do – could he touch her? Did she want a hug?

Why was he focusing so much on himself when Naminé could be dying?

“Never – seen so many – people,” she managed to finally gasp out.

Riku wasn’t sure what to say to that either. He just squeezed her fingers, as best he could when his felt as though they were being torn off.

She squeezed his back.

So he squeezed hers again.

They went backwards and forwards, until he figured out to time it to their breaths. It seemed to help – gradually Naminé seemed to calm down. Enough to release her grip, close her eyes and give him a shaky smile. The tears had dried, the tracks still shiny on her cheeks.

“I’m alright.”

Riku nodded, but still pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. He averted his eyes as Naminé wiped her face, then twisted the handkerchief around her finger.

There were more awkward minutes.

“Maybe it’s best I stay on the ship.” Her voice was still shaky, as though it was hard to push out the words. “For Donald and Goofy – and your Mickey.”

“ _My_ Mickey?”

She blinked at him – her lashes spiky from tears. “Isn’t he yours?”

“No – he –” had attached himself to Riku from day one. And against everything – against his hatred of mice, he had let the King stay. Had gotten attached straight back. “He’s a King. I think I belong to him.”

Naminé laughed – the wobbly kind of laugh that people had when they were trying to force tears back. “That’s true.”

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, you should stay.” Naminé glanced back inside. She tilted her head to one side. “With Sora, I mean… Do you know that he’s smitten with you?”

Riku kept his eyes on the clusters of palm trees that led away and to the sea. It was bluer than in England – bluer than in Morocco – the same too-blue as Sora’s eyes. Which only made him feel warm all over.

“He says it’s complicated,” Naminé continued.

“It is.”

“I don’t understand you.” She shook her head. “You love each other, don’t you?”

Love. That was a big word. It prickled the hair on the back of his neck as it loomed over him. Love implied a lot of feelings – a lot of sincerity and emotions. He’d never had a lot of experience with _love_. He’d hardly describe his mother’s feelings for him as that. The closest he supposed he ever got was that mouse.

Well, and – memories caught up to him in fragments. An older boy hooking his arm around Riku’s neck and asking if he wanted extra tutoring – giving him an excuse to eat lunch and disappear. The boy sitting just a little closer than was necessary, hooking his arm around his shoulders – leaning in –

That was when it shattered. When he didn’t like to think about what came after.

“People don’t like it when boys love boys.”

“What does that matter?”

“Because they’re the people who say it’s a crime.”

Her eyes were startingly clear, considering how panicked she had just been. “And do you believe that?”

“What I believe doesn’t matter, Naminé. I don’t want to get either of us jailed or hung."

Naminé considered that. With much more calm than Riku could.

But then she smiled, slightly. And even though she had been crying five minutes ago, she still looked pretty. "Then just don't get caught."

As if it was that simple.

The thought made him pause. Made him look back into the tavern. It was too crowded to see anyone in particular, but he was sure that he could single out Sora's loud voice and uncaring laugh amongst it all. Speaking Spanish in a way that twisted his stomach. It was a voice he'd recognise anywhere - he was sure of that.

Naminé made everything so straight forward. It made him feel clogged down - with responsibilities and worries and the past - he couldn't see straight.

But maybe she was right. Maybe none of that was really important.

Maybe it _was_ that simple.

*

Sora was playing it safe.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that they could run into trouble easily. He knew that they had to be very careful where they stood now.

So he was being tactful with how many games he played - how many he won, and how much he won.

Riku reappeared at his side, with two tankards that he slid onto the table. He bent down so Sora could hear him.

"I wouldn't recommend drinking them. I took them off another table."

He didn't take his eyes of the cards, but tilted his head to show he heard. "I thought you were buying drinks?"

"With what?" Riku asked.

"Open a tab."

Riku shook his head. "Naminé wasn't feeling well. She's gone back to the ship."

Sora stood, still holding his cards, and gestured for Riku to take the chair. "On her own?"

"She wanted us to spend time together." Riku raised his eyebrows as he sat.

Sora's heart leapt. He found himself raising his eyebrows back, hoping that he looked careless.

Naminé really was pushing them together and he could only be relieved she was. Someone had to do it.

"You still in or what?" one of the men at the table barked.

It made him jump - enough that he yelled "in," as he sat back down.

Right on Riku's knee.

He played his next card and considered jumping right back off, but a quick glance around showed him chairs were in high demand. People were pushing through the place so quickly that he would be caught up in the rush if he tried to dive for one.

And, anyway, Riku's hands had gone to his hips. Maybe accidentally, but that was enough to short circuit his brain for a second.

So he stayed.

For a round, he barely dared breathe. He was aware of his whole weight on Riku - how heavy he was or wasn't. Riku was frozen beneath him - almost as if he was doing an impression of the chair itself.

But play continued. They recieved a couple of raised eyebrows, a couple of shrugs when it was acknowledged how busy the pub was anyway.

No one cared.

Sora found himself leaning back slightly, all too aware that Riku could see his cards and wondering why that mattered.

"But Naminé's okay?"

Riku nodded. His hands softened, slightly. "She is now."

This time he shuffled backwards, because he was falling off and leant further back. Back against Riku's solid chest. Into those biceps. His face was already pink and he wasn't meeting Sora's gaze.

Which gave him the courage to smirk and ask, "so darling, which card should I play?"

It did the trick. Riku turned crimson in less than a second, his eyes wide.

He managed to recover well, jerking his leg up to throw Sora off-balance. "Be quiet."

Sora laughed, using the jostle to slip a card from his sleeve. It was the one he threw down.

The men groaned. He'd won - the whole jackpot.

"Should we cut you in?" a man asked, nodding to Riku, who was still the colour of a tomato.

He shook his head. "It's not really my game."

"Then what is your game?" Sora turned. Their faces were close, but he could still make out Riku's eyes.

"Billiards," he said, to sounds of approval around the table. But then he leant closer, so that only Sora could hear him add. "But I'm partial to backgammon."

So Riku had managed to get educated on these matters, amongst all of his fancy lessons.

It was Sora's turn to blush, though he turned away to hide it. He couldn't fight the grin on his face.

That was bold. It was the boldest thing Riku had said - it was _flirting_ , and Sora didn't know whether to laugh or spontaneously combust on the spot.

"We'll leave you gentleman there." He was talking hurriedly, in a panic. "We've a billiards table to find."

Riku helped him scoop the winnings into a coin purse, hands grazing his just once too many times to be on accident.

There were a few whistles, a few jeers, but they got away unscathed, making their way through the crowd pressed together.

"Well I am shocked that you know that kind of slang." Sora half-turned back to see Riku looking more than a little bashful.

Riku shrugged. "Private school taught me a few things."

"Indeed." They finally reached the door to one of the side rooms. It was less packed, full of men smoking and watching two ladies play billiards. There was a spare table on the far end. He pressed himself against the door frame, so that Riku had to step through sideways. "Backgammon, apparently."

His hand half raised - fingertips just brushing against Riku's shirt. They were leaning closer - Riku was leaning into him.

"And billiards," Riku nodded to the table in the room. "Which I'll proceed to beat you at."

Sora smirked. He leant further forward - just to see if he could. "We'll see about that."

He pushed past Riku – pushing his hand against his chest to make room – and threw a grin over his shoulder. Riku was grinning back, even though his face was bright pink. Something must have happened, but Sora wasn't going to question it. He'd make the most of this confident, flirting Riku whilst he had him.

They set up the game, even though Sora only had a vague idea of how to play.

He dusted the end of his stick with chalk for longer than was necessary. Because that was what Riku did.

Riku took the first shot. He leant across the green, lining up the cue with the balls. Sora’s eye was drawn to the line of his arm, the glint in his eye as he concentrated. Concentrated – he was like a leopard, ready to pounce.

The cue ball darted forward and scattered them. One was potted immediately. Riku’s eyes flicked up to Sora’s and he smirked. The lit was dim in here – it made his hair look like moonlight and his skin look like marble.

Sora’s heart pounded. But he couldn’t let that show. Instead, he stuck his tongue out.

Riku laughed.

Which sent the world spinning as Sora stepped up to the table, getting into position clumsily. His fingers slipped as he moved the cue forward. The ball moved lazily away from it, knocking into another just enough to set it a few centimetres back.

It was an awful shot.

“What do we need so much money for?” Riku potted another ball easily.

“Food. Drink. Clothes, supplies.” One ball got close to the corner pocket and stayed annoyingly on the edge. This whole game was against him. “We’ll need defences, too.”

“Defences?” He barely even had to look before he took a shot.

“We’re wanted. If it comes to another forced boarding, I’d rather have cannons. And swords.”

Riku raised his eyebrows. “You can fight with a sword?”

He mirrored the expression, unable to stop a smirk from stretching itself onto his face. “They didn’t teach you fencing at boarding school?”

“Oh, they did.”

Sora brought his cue up. He wasn’t sure why – he hadn’t drunk anything, but he felt like he had. Like he was floating. It felt like it was just the two of them. They’d escaped from the rest of the world and now they were in their own bubble.

They could take risks – who was watching and who here would care?

“Then _en garde,_ Master Riku.”

Riku hesitated for a moment, looking at his own cue. Then he shook his head, still smirking, and brought his own weapon up. “ _En garde,_ Captain.”

Sora darted forward with the cue and was batted away easily. He tried again, and this time Riku parried, nearly catching him in the cheek. They moved back and forth around the table, lunging at each other and leaping out of the way. Laughing so much it was hard to concentrate.

He grew aware of the sound of cheers, and came to the realisation that they were being watched. Riku hadn’t noticed, he was focused, his cheeks pink from the exertion, his chest rising and falling heavily. They fought on, getting more serious. Sora payed attention to where his feet should be – how to keep his balance – which style Riku was fighting in and the best parry to it. Tried to, at least.

It was an even match, and it was hard to tell who was winning. They continued, until Riku burst forward with a particularly quick thrust. Sora stepped back to avoid it, and tripped on a chair leg, feeling himself tumbling over.

He managed to hook his foot into Riku’s knee, waving his cue clumsily and disarming him at the same time.

They both tumbled to the floor, the cues clattering to the ground and rolling away.

And Riku was over Sora, his knees either side his hips and his hands by his head.

There was silence for a moment. He could only hear himself breathe and he could only feel Riku’s breath on his cheeks. His heart was gone – packed it’s bags and ran away as fast as it could.

Then he remembered the crowd, and raised his hands as best he could. “A tie, ladies and gentlemen!”

There was a mixture of laughs and boos for that – evidently it was too good a fight to end in a draw.

“Sorry.” Riku’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t move.

Sora didn’t either. He stayed, staring up at him. “For what?”

“What in the bloody hell is going on in here?” a loud voice cut across the din. Sora recognised it. If his memory served, it belonged to a bald, beefy man, who owned the place. Who it was best not to get on the wrong side of. “Why are my cues on the floor?”

He pushed against Riku –

“Run for it.”

They scrambled up, scrambled through the crowd and ducked through the doorway before an explanation could be given. It was still heaving with people, but – by a miracle – they managed to bob and weave their way through the throng.

When they emerged into the night air, they were laughing – every time they caught their breath, the laughter came again, until Sora felt tears in the corner of his eyes. It was still humid out, but it felt almost cool compared to the inside. The sun had set properly now, painting the world in deep indigos and blacks.

Their hands were linked – had to be to keep them together in the crowd – but he let them stay that way. Pulled Riku away from the entrance of the pub – into the foliage that sat at the side. A palm tree and a few spiky bushes, flowers still wrapped up in buds. They were hidden, partly, if people were going to look for them.

No one had followed them out.

“Would we really have gotten in trouble?” Riku’s voice was still faint.

“Better not to risk it.”

There was a window on the floor above them and flickering candlelight filtered through the leaves. It cast an amber glow on one side of Riku’s face. Sora wasn’t thinking – he still felt drunk on the thrill – on behaving like a child – he let his fingers trace that light.

“Speaking of taking risks…you’re – taking them.”

“Well…” Riku’s eyes were half closed. The light gave his eyelashes dark shadows, like fans, down his pale cheeks. “Naminé…helped me realise some things.”

“That’s good.” Was it? His heart was racing. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this – maybe by turning this into something, by letting that something out – they would ruin it. It was such a fragile thing and maybe it was best to keep it trapped.

Riku squeezed his fingers, as though he could sense his thoughts. Maybe he was nervous too.

“Before – when we got boarded, I-”

“Aye.” Sora’s voice was barely a whisper. “I remember.”

“I don’t know what came over me – or, no. No, I do know. I – I meant that.” The bruise on his cheek had disappeared now, as though nothing had ever happened. (Was that really such a terrible thing?)

“I did.” Sora swallowed. “I did too.”

Riku took a sharp intake of breath – it felt like he had taken part of Sora with that breath. He jerked his head clumsily forwards, so that their foreheads bumped together first.

But then instinct took hold and Sora tilted his head, pressing their lips together.

It was like before – it was sparks and racing hearts and he felt as though he was on fire.

Until –

“The word is, the navy’ll pay handsomely for a boy with silver hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I completely forgot how I ended this because I wrote 12 and 13 back to back.  
> So I'm sorry, but I'm also...not sorry?  
> Also Riku is me when any of my friend's have a panic attack because?? I just can't human??  
> Also also you can tell that I read 'The Gentleman's Guide to Getting Lucky' before this chapter because that's were the backgammon innuendo came form. Read it - and the actual novel that came before it 'The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue' because if you like gay regency pining??? And pirates?? That is the book for you!!!  
> But. Yeah. Thank you all for sticking with me! Thank you all for reading/commenting/kudos-ing etc etc - I really really do appreciate it and it's really helping my continue on with this fic!  
> I will see you all next week! xx  
> (P.S. It is a (mostly) friendly face appearing next week. xx)  
> (P.P.S I may or may not have the first chapter of a mermaid AU in my drafts..)


	13. The Mistake

The Mistake

Riku was tall enough to hide Sora from view. He stepped in front of him, squaring his shoulders, and tried to look fierce in the face of this newcomer. The dim light showed that it was a man – thin and swaying like a tree in the breeze. A pirate, if the clothes were any indication – and a captain too, judging by the hat.

He wished they already had swords. Not even one night in and they had already gotten into trouble. How could they have let their guard down so easily?

“Jack?” Sora ducked around Riku and his face burst into a grin.

The man opened his arms, taking a half bow. It looked as though he was about to fall over at any minute. “The very same.”

“You know him?” Riku shouldn’t be shocked, but he still was.

“Of course!” Sora squeezed Riku’s arm as he stepped forward, practically bouncing with excitement now. “I was on his crew for a time.”

“How did I know you would say that?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

It felt like his hair was a beacon. He wanted to get inside, now, and find something to cover it up.

“Best rigging monkey the Pearl has ever had.” The pirate – Jack – made to ruffle Sora’s hair. Only he was still wearing his hat, so it just got knocked askew, almost over one eye.

Riku felt a pang. It wasn’t jealousy – he knew it wasn’t jealousy. It was something else – it was suspicion. Definitely suspicion.

“Riku, this is Captain Jack Sparrow.” Sora put a hand on his arm again, as if to push him closer. He stayed firmly where he was. “Jack, this is my friend – Riku.”

“Friend, eh?” Dark eyes flicked between them, and Riku’s cheeks prickled with heat. His mouth was still warm from the kiss – as though Sora’s mouth was still there. As if he’d left a mark and it was obvious.

It wasn’t fair – he’d finally gone for it, finally stepped off of the plank – and it had been ruined. By this man.

He glanced across. Sora’s skin wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t blush – his cheeks were dusted red – but he just grinned wider and gave Jack a light punch on the arm. “Why don’t we catch up? Get a drink.”

Riku frowned. The more he saw, the more he didn’t like this man. Something made him think the swaggering about was an act – a cover up. “Maybe we should get back. The crew will be worried.”

“Ah aye, the dog will be starting to pine for you.” Jack smiled at Sora, a gold tooth glinting.

So even he laughed at Donald and Goofy – like everyone else.

Riku narrowed his eyes.

But Sora kept smiling, giving a small shrug. Although, he did catch Riku's eye, and read the concern on his face easily enough.

"Riku's right, we should head back. You could come back with us, though?

He was desperate to say no - no absolutely not. There was no way this man was going anywhere near Naminé.

But Jack had already smiled and agreed. He held out a hand to Riku. "A pleasure."

“Likewise.” He only held the handshake for the briefest of moments. Something buried in Jack’s dreadlocks glinted at him, like an extra eye watching him.

They started down the path, avoiding stray drunks and beggars as if they were puddles. Riku kept himself close to Sora, ready to yank him out of the middle if needed.

“That’s an interesting accent.” Jack nodded to Riku.

“I was born in England.”

“Aye, they’re the ones who’re desperate to find you.”

“You said that,” Sora said. “The navy have really put a bounty on our heads?”

His head kept bobbing in a nod. “And might I say that it _is_ a pretty penny for whoever brings in the boy with silver hair. And his pirate kidnapper.”

“But you wouldn’t turn us over.” Sora smiled. “Would you, Jack?”

“Come now, Mister Sora – what kind of a pirate do you think I am?”

Sora moved quickly – suddenly he was stepping out in front of Jack to block his path, though his hands were behind his back, and he was still smiling sweetly.

“I think you’re the kind of pirate who has deserted his friends before and will do again. You’re the kind of man who’s left me behind. More than once. And I’ve learnt from that. So, if I’m double crossed, I’d be more than happy to show you just how much I’ve learnt.”

Even though Jack was stood still, he never seemed to stop moving. His hands swayed along with the rest of him, though his expression was serious as he took in the edge to Sora’s smile. The mixture of his cheerful tone and harsh words.

A shiver trickled down Riku’s spine. It was disconcerting. He’d never seen this side of Sora before.

“And how will you get your revenge, mate, from the hangman’s noose?”

Sora laughed. “I think we both know that dead men sometimes do tell tales.”

They stared at each other, letting the words sit between them. Riku’s heart was pounding.

And then Jack laughed. It cut across the air like a seagull’s cry – harsh and disjointed.

“Look at you – all grown up,” he said. He gave Sora a heavy pat on the shoulder, before he continued past him.

Sora turned and fell into step, his chin raised. “Learnt many things, these few years.”

“Oh, aye?”

“Would you know anything about the chest at the eye of a storm?”

Riku caught Sora’s eye and shook his head as subtly as he could. Sora held up his fingers, keeping his hand at his side, as if he was telling him to wait.

“That every chest needs a key. That things like that are normally best left alone. Tangles you up in all of the wrong sort of thing.”

“What if someone you cared about was on the line?”

Jack sniffed, and walked faster. “You know I don’t care about anyone.”

Sora rolled his eyes. “Say the Pearl was on the line then.”

Jack stopped then, looking at Sora with one eye narrowed, one eye wide. It was disconcerting, but maybe it was meant to be. “And why do you ask these questions?”

Riku felt his heart clench.

Sora shrugged. “Hypothetical.”

Jack remained staring at him a moment longer. “You may be a fine rigging monkey, but you just watch what you’re getting yourself into.” They were near the port now, and the pirate scanned the horizon. “Which one’s yours, then, eh?”

“Oh, it’s there.” Sora vaguely gestured. Then he seemed to spring to life, punching Jack’s shoulder again and grinning broadly. “We’ll catch up proper tomorrow, Jack! See you then!”

He tugged at Riku’s elbow to get him to move. He kept Jack in his sight for as long as he could before he had to turn back. Those dark eyes seemed to be following them intensely, and it made him feel queasy.

The dock curved slightly, and they were hidden from sight. A line of palm trees swayed on one side in the warm air. A lantern hanging on a post flickered, lighting their way.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Oh, Jack’s not that bad. You can’t trust most pirates anyway.”

“Can I trust you?”

Sora paused then. His fingers graced Riku’s – half entwining, and then seeming to think better of it. “Well, I’m hardly much of a pirate.”

There was a softness there that was rare. Sora was avoiding his gaze, looking down at their not quite touching hands. His dark hair hung in his face and his shoulders slumped. It was just like when they had met Barbossa, as if being around these people made Sora embarrassed – almost ashamed, and that seemed crazy to Riku. They’d come so far already – across half the world. They’d survived so much –

And yet even Jack didn’t take Sora seriously. Even he had laughed at the dog onboard and called him ‘mister’ instead of ‘captain.’ They all still treated him like a child, when he was –

When he was incredible. The most incredible person Riku had ever met. _Because_ of the dog and the duck and the mice. Because of his relentless attitude and bright smiles.

He was always smiling.

Riku twisted his hand – took Sora’s and squeezed it. “You’re my favourite pirate. That I’ve met.”

He received a small smile. “Well, it’s not like you have many to compare me too.”

“I have enough.”

Sora looked up. It was still enough to knock Riku’s breath away – made him remember just how pretty this boy was. How the recent sun had brought out freckles across his nose – a galaxy resting across his tanned cheeks.

“I believe we got interrupted,” Sora said. “Back there.”

He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the tavern, enough that his fringe drifted across his forehead.

Riku remained silent for a moment – because he was breathless. He’d been struck breathless a lot this evening – he was struck breathless a lot around Sora.

“I believe so,” he managed to whisper.

Sora’s hand was creeping up to his cheek and he was stretching up onto tip toes.

Riku leant down, eyes drifting shut.

Would it be like this, every time, he wondered. Would he always feel electricity when they kissed?

*

Naminé had been drawing.

Which made Sora feel guilty. They really shouldn’t have left her alone – shouldn’t have let her walk home alone. What had they been thinking?

Well, he knew what they had been thinking. They had been thinking of flirting, and each other and definitely not of her.

And he knew Riku felt awful too. At least, he did, until Naminé had raised her eyebrows at him, looking between the two of them quickly. He’d caught Riku’s blush – the small grin that he was trying oh-so-hard to smother.

Sora’s heart had raced. It was all true. The way they both felt.

They were eating breakfast. Sora had ventured ashore to buy mangoes, papayas, coconuts – all of the fruits that he had grown up eating. There was a small mound in front of them that Little Chief was tucking into. Naminé was steadily making her way through a mango.

It was only Riku that stared at the fruit with apprehension.

“Do you recognise this?” Naminé held up the sketch of a beach. It was done as all black scribbles – so that the two figures and collection of ships in the distance where the only white space left.

“We used to watch the boats from here.” Sora nodded. “Normally, we’d have to wait for a fisherman going back to Havanna for us.”

It was strange talking about Kairi with Riku here. There was a part of him that wanted to keep this private – just between him and Naminé.

But that wasn’t far. Their brief encounter with his mother had revealed Riku to him so completely that he couldn’t hide anything. Not now.

They had come too far.

There were a few others. Two were similar – Sora and Kairi messing around on the beach. The last one, however, was dark again. Sora wasn’t in this one.

It was just Kairi. Sat at the beach. With a dark figure next to her.

“Who is that?” Riku asked. He was leaning over the back of the chair, their faces were close. If he turned, he could press his mouth against Riku’s neck. Easily.

He forced himself to focus on the drawing instead. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“She wasn’t scared,” Naminé said. “She was wary and uncertain, but she wasn’t scared.”

“I don’t suppose you know anything else?”

“She was thinking of you.”

Sora swallowed and blinked rapidly. He ran a hand over his mouth, as if he was thinking, and nodded.

Naminé graciously continued. “It wasn’t the first time she’d met this person. And it wasn’t the last.”

“Could they just a be a friend?” Riku asked. “Are you certain they had something to do with her disappearance?”

“She would have told me,” Sora insisted. His voice was strained. “She told me _everything_.”

But Naminé was already nodding along to Riku’s question.

“Well, that’s good.” His hand squeezed Sora’s shoulder, and he honestly thought he was about to break into pieces. He was trying so hard to be reassuring – it made everything seem worse. “We just have to look for this figure. Find out more about them. Where else would they have met her?”

They were both looking at Sora for the answer.

“Home,” he managed to say. “Havanna.”

“We can sail there within a few days – maybe overnight if the winds are good.” Naminé spoke quickly, as if that would help move things along.

“We’ll buy supplies this morning,” Riku said. “Do you think we have enough money to last us? Captain?”

It was the ‘Captain’ that gave him the strength to swallow down the lump in his throat. He cleared his throat, and leant back in his chair – back against Riku’s arm, and that was fantastic.

“We can make more once we reach Havanna. Especially now that _someone_ has shown a proficiency at the Billiards table.”

He tried for a smirk up at Riku, even though he knew his mouth was still wobbly.

Riku rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. Fond. He was fond of Sora.

It had just been the one kiss last night. One kiss that had lingered so long Sora’s feet had begun to ache from being on tip toe for so long. Then it had been nervous glances away and to each other – a whispered, “we can be seen here,” before one of them, it was hard to tell which took the other’s hands and they had stumbled up onto the ship in silence. Sora’s heart had still been beating erratically. He’d still tingly and as if he was going to burst at any moment.

He’d spent the night reliving the four kisses so far. He’d spent all morning itching to pull Riku into another kiss – trying to find the right moment and the right words to get it to happen again. He could only think of Riku’s lips – Riku’s cheeks, Riku’s hands.

Naminé was smiling at them. Her eyes shone – like she knew. Like she knew and was happy for them.

Which made it all that tiny bit sweeter.

“Why don’t you two buy what we need?” she suggested. “I’ll take a wander along the beach and see if I can think of anything else.”

There was that curl of guilt – he always felt guilty around Naminé. Naminé drawing and forcing herself to draw for their sake. Getting out of their way for their sake.

“Don’t feel pressured to-”

“I like drawing.” She finished her mango and stretched. “It makes me feel relaxed. Honestly.”

Her smiled helped uncoil the guilt.

There was the matter of Riku’s hair to attend to, as well. It was too obvious – if the navy really were searching for them, then they’d probably already been noticed – just as well they were leaving soon.

Thankfully, Goofy came to the rescue. Sora threw his hat into the hold with the instruction “fetch.”

The dog came back with a hat that was definitely not Sora’s. In fact, he had no idea where it had come from. But it was a tricorn, and they could tuck Riku’s ponytail up and into it. They lowered it enough so that his bangs couldn’t be seen. It also happened to solve the problem of Sora wanting to rake his hands through it constantly.

“And then all you have to do is keep your mouth shut.” Sora smiled, admiring his handiwork. Admiring those cheekbones and that mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“Exactly. You talk too posh. It’s a dead giveaway.”

Riku’s cheeks flushed – he was breath taking when he did that – and he opened his mouth to retort – then closed it as Naminé laughed. His expression softened, instead, and he just rolled his eyes again, stepping onto the gangplank.

He froze when he saw a figure on the docks.

Sora had to peer around him again. Jack Sparrow was there, hands in the pockets of his coats, looking for the world as though he was causally admiring any and all of the ships docked there.

He saw Riku tense as he stepped down from the ship.

“Sora – there you are. Mighty fine ship you’ve acquired.”

He could hear the sarcasm, see the slight tug at the edge of Jack’s mouth. It was hardly a compliment, but he was going to take it as one.

“Aye, she gets the job done.”

“And who’s this?” Jack had noticed Naminé. Riku stepped in front of her, shielding most of her from view. And as much as Jack was his friend, he had to agree with him. It was a wonder Jack didn’t have a black eye this morning from an angry woman.

“This is Naminé. She’s – my sister.” He gave Jack a warning look, but it was only acknowledged as the raise of an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

"I never said." He turned to Naminé and put a hand on her shoulder, lowering his voice. "We'll meet you back here at noon, alright?"

Naminé nodded. She wasn't scared, but she didn't look over at Jack. She nodded. "Be safe."

He hugged her - tightly - because suddenly he felt scared. He imagined her disappearing- like Kairi. What would they do? He'd be responsible for two girls going missing.

She squeezed him back, as if to reassure him, then she was walking down the dock. She waved and smiled, the sun catching her blonde hair and making her blue eyes sparkle.

It was a mistake to let her go. He knew it.

But he didn’t stop her.

*

They brought what they needed, Jack tagging along like a stray dog. He and Sora chatted like old friends, telling anecdotes of the past to each other, and exchanging recent events. Jack seemed to have an opinion on all their supplies. Sora nodded, like he was listening, but often slipped others to the sellers.

Riku noticed Sora was quick to avoid mentioning Naminé, or the chest. He found himself gritting his jaw. There was something about this he just did not trust.

It felt like they were being pushed into a corner by hands larger than they were. A child trapping an ant with a finger, so that it had no choice where to go. That was them – just running until they couldn’t run any further. They had to be caught soon.

The thought hung over him like a dark cloud.

They had taken Donald and Goofy with them - Donald had pecked at everyone's ankles, running away before they could kick him. Goofy seemed determined to knock Sora over - leaning his full weight against him whenever he stood still.

And then there was the King. Mickey poked his whiskers out from Riku's collar every few seconds, watching, as though he didn't trust this pirate either.

They worked quickly - and made it back before noon - before Naminé - with crates of shopping in their arms.

Sora had asked him to carry the cannonballs, smiling sweetly. And his gaze had barely left Riku's arms since. The knowledge made his cheeks blaze with heat, but it was too late to put them back. Of the two of them, he knew he was physically stronger.

And a part of him – the part of him that he had pushed down for so long, enjoyed the attention.

This was new. It was all new. Sora liked him - really liked him and he liked him back. They’d kissed – and they had again. The something was there - it was alive and beating, released from its cage. The thing was free and that was wonderful but terrifying.

It was an exercise in self-restraint. The kiss last night should have been more – was begging to be more – but it hadn’t been. And it was determined to stick in his head, to be the only thought he could have – to replay itself over and over.

"So.” Sora was dropping coils of rope and unloading food, facing away from Riku. “No one’s around.”

"Naminé will be back soon."

"Soon," Sora agreed. His voice was teasing, and soft. When Riku turned to him, he was faced with a small smile. A half-smirk, half-bashful grin. "That gives us time."

"What are you getting at?" Riku asked, even though he knew. His own voice had dropped to match the conspiratorial tone.

“Riku.” Sora stepped towards him. His hand reached up, fingertips just grazing his cheekbone. “I’m going to go crazy if I don’t…”

His voice trailed off. Riku realised that he’d leant down, leant into the touch – was already losing himself in those bluer than blue eyes. His heart raced in his fingertips.

But he couldn’t make this easy. There was a part of him that wanted to prolong this – to annoy Sora as much as he possibly could, because –

Just because.

“If you don’t…?”

Sora’s hands found his wrists – guided them to his hips – as he closed the gap and kissed him.

Instinctively, he pulled him closer, kissing him back and trying to catch those sparks in his mouth.

Arms went around his neck – so tightly that Sora’s elbows met each other – one hand reached up to bury itself in his hair – pressing them flush against each other.

The kiss became less chaste – became open mouthed and desperate. Became Sora pushing Riku against the crates behind him, and Riku pushing against Sora. Became mouths pushing and tongues pushing and somehow his hands readjusted – lifted Sora off of the floor so that he could wrap his legs around Riku’s waist as well.

So that Riku had to raise his head instead.

Sora’s mouth trailed from his – seemingly reluctantly because his teeth grazed Riku’s jaw just as much as his lips did. He lifted his chin to accommodate, one hand slipped under Sora’s coat – against his shirt – feeling the curve of his back and the damp sticking his clothes to him.

There was a pause. Hot breath fanned against the side of his neck. Sora was breathing heavily, his back rose and fell with the movement.

“How long?” Sora whispered. “I – from the first time I saw you, I wanted –”

“You were obvious.” He tilted his head to the side. Felt Sora’s hair prick against his cheek. “Yes – I – sorry it took me so long.”

Down his neck, to his collarbone, Sora peppered kisses. “Me too.”

“Hey.” He turned, nuzzling his nose against Sora’s ear until he turned. When he did, Riku caught his lips again – held the bottom one in his mouth and heard Sora give a long sigh. He relaxed against him, fingers toying with Riku’s hair. Pulling it loose so that it got into his eyes. “I was…” he forced himself to pull away. To press damp foreheads together and tell the truth. It didn’t matter if he didn’t get information back. “I was scared I’d ruin this. You’re…the only real friend I’ve ever had.”

Sora kissed him, gently. It felt as though his lip was still throbbing. “Do animals count as friends?”

“Why?”

“Well it would have to go Goofy, Donald, then you.”

Riku chuckled. He leant back, unable to stop himself from grinning. Sora smiled sheepishly at him from under messy hair. His hat had been knocked off at some point and it looked more like a bird’s nest than ever. A beautiful bird’s nest

He really was something, this boy.

“I’m under Donald _and_ Goofy?”

“Hey.” Sora’s thumb traced down his jaw, over his bottom lip. “I put you before the King.”

“Well then, I change my mind. The King goes before you.”

“That’s not fair. Without me you’d never have met King Mickey.” Sora was pouting and Riku’s heart was melting. That was the pout he’d had – all that time ago, in Bristol.

“I’m glad I did. I’m glad it was you.”

Sora’s smile slid. He looked stunned, instead. His eyes searched Riku’s face, as though he expected him to laugh or tell him it was a joke. He just stared – for a long moment, before he slowly leant forward. Their foreheads rested against each other again and Sora gave another heavy sigh.

“Aye. I – I’m glad you decided to run away from school and straight onto my ship.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing I thought I was running from.”

Sora’s thumb made way for his mouth against Riku’s. “Thought?”

“This – has never had feelings attached before. It’s not the same.”

Sora remained quiet for a moment. Then he kissed him softly again and murmured, “good.”

They went back to trading kisses – to pressing their mouths against jaws and necks and collarbones. And Riku had been right – the sparks remained, keeping his heart hammering through his chest. It was hot here – humid – and they were sweating, but he didn’t mind. Incredible – this had consumed his thoughts for so long and now it was happening. Like a dream.

The dream continued until Sora murmured, “I’m so glad Naminé got us to stop acting like fools.”

Riku froze. “Naminé.”

Sora sagged his weight down and Riku let him slip back onto his own feet. He still kept his arms around Riku’s neck. “She should be back by now.”

“Let’s check.”

Their hands found each other as they headed back onto the deck. Goofy came running to greet them, bestowing them both with his own form of kisses. Sora let him, kissing Goofy’s nose back.

Riku pushed him away. His hands were covered in slobber, as was Sora’s cheeks. (Why was _that_ something he had to stare at so long?)

Naminé wasn’t there. They checked the cabin, only finding a hungry Donald, who nipped at Sora’s fingertips.

“She’ll be on the beach, still,” Sora said, but there was a tightness in his voice and a small line between his brows. It was starting to drizzle – the rain so warm that it felt as though the humidity was finally forming into water droplets.

Still, it was better than admitting that she had gone missing. Riku stepped off the gangplank, ready to search for her.

Then noticed something scurrying down the docks towards him. A glimpse of a naked tail and round ears – and, for a moment, the old fear came back. But then his eyes adjusted and he realised it was just Little Chief.

The rat ran up and sat at their feet. His front paws tapped on Sora’s boot feverishly, and he was looking from side to side.

“What’s wrong?” Sora knelt down to the rat’s level, but Little Chief didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he tugged at Sora’s lace, pulling it undone. “I think he wants us to follow him.”

A few weeks ago, Riku would have laughed at that. Following a rat would have seemed like a ludicrous idea. Now, it seemed like the only logical thing to do.

He nodded, and, after stopping to strap on the rapiers they had just purchased, they set off.

Little Chief kept a quick pace along the ships. They had to jog to keep up – how could one small creature move so fast? Especially when it was the hottest time of the day – it felt as though the air could melt them into puddles. It was hard to breathe, and the back of his neck was burning with heat.

But then the rat skidded to a stop, suddenly, in front of one of the larger boats.

Riku didn’t recognise it. It was just another pirate ship, with tattered sails and dulling paint. Full of men on board with coarse language and drunk laughs.

Sora, on the other hand, froze. His face went pale, despite the heat.

“Whose is that ship?” His stomach was curling in on itself. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

And he was right.

Sora’s face looked pained as he said it.

“Barbossa’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): The note I found at the beginning of the word doc said: Riku: Friendship ended with Sora. Now King Mickey is my best friend.  
> And again, I wrote these chapters practically back to back so I'm so so sorry for another cliffhanger?! It's annoying me too because I'm going back to proofread them. But I can say that next week's chapter is not a cliffhanger, and that it's a good chapter.  
> As always thank you all so so so much for reading/commenting/kudos-ing etc etc. I really really do appreciate it and updating fics on time is what's making me remember what day it is atm so -  
> Stay safe and I will see you all next week!!! <3 xx


	14. The Swordfight

The Swordfight

“Sora!”

It wasn’t the voice he had been expecting to hear. But it was the voice of a friend, and that had to count for something.

Then again, it was probably the last person on the island who could help. Who, now that he gave it more than one moment’s thought – was just as likely to be foe.

He turned. Scowled. “Jack! Don’t say you’re here with them?”

“What? No, no, of course not.” His hands were waving through the air like trees in a strong wind. “Why would you think that, mate?”

Sora crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. This was working – it was working – Jack really did think that he’d grown up. That he was serious and capable now, even if his ship was small and populated with more animals than people.

“Look, I’ve just come back from _your_ ship. To tell you that your sister was seen going aboard _this_ ship.” Jack pointed for emphasis.

“The rat beat you to it,” Riku said.

Which, despite everything, made Sora smirk just a little bit.

Little Chef nodded, as though he was smirking too, then disappeared back down the docks. Probably to avoid being grabbed by Barbossa again.

Or two seek out crumbs from the market.

“I thought you might appreciate the help.” Jack's smile tightened. Enough for Sora to nod and relent, slightly.

"Thank you. I appreciate the help."

Jack's face softened. For a moment, he was still the man that Sora had trusted whole heartedly a few years ago. And he wanted to trust him now - to know that Jack had a crazy, convoluted plan for everything to work out in the end. But that was childish too.

It was still raining. It made him worry even more.

And the gangplank was down, which meant they were expected. All of this was starting to look like a trap. Sora gritted his teeth, put a hand over the sword at his hip.

As they stepped onto the deck, they were recognised. A few men were still in favour of Jack, but it was still a frosty reception.

“Parley – parley!” Jack called over the top of the noise.

Sora didn’t have the patience. “Where’s Barbossa?”

A few men pointed to the Captain’s cabin. He pressed forward, Riku close by his side. The monkey on the rigging had decided to run along the railing, screeching at Jack. He paused to try and shoo it away.

“Do we have a plan?” Riku murmured, as Sora put a hand against the door.

Sora just raised an eyebrow.

Riku shrugged, a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Thought I’d double check.”

Despite the fact that the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling – that he felt incredibly ill at ease on this ship. That he hated the jeers and the whole situation – he found himself smiling. Riku was enough to make him feel brave. To feel strong and confident.

He kicked the door open.

And stepped through.

“Barbossa!”

The man looked up from the table. Not surprised, or impressed.

“Typical,” he sat. “No respect for property.”

The room sent a shiver down Sora’s spine. It was eerily familiar – almost the same as his cabin on the Pearl – and it made him feel small again. For a moment, he was back to being eleven and terrified. Faces seemed to leer from the creases in the plush curtains – from the dark wood of the dressers and tables.

But Naminé was sat there, her hair glowing in the sun streaming in from the window behind her.

“Naminé.” Riku stepped forward.

Sora caught his arm, tightened his grip so that Riku hesitated. He forced his attention onto Barbossa, trying to look as furious as he felt. Trying to bury that eleven year old as far down as he could.

“Aye, we were just having a chat, weren’t we, lass?”

Naminé nodded, but her face was pale and her eyes were clouded.

“See? Just about the pickle that the three of you have found yourself in.” Barbossa turned to Riku, then, and added. "Your ma's looking for you."

Riku froze. Just like he had on the ship at the sight of her. It was then that they both noticed - his hair was loose and hanging to his jaw. Silver. They’d forgotten to cover it.

"Barbosa." Jack stepped forward, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and ever so gently pushing them a step behind him. He was still smiling, but there was an edge to it. The kind of smile Sora had turned on him just yesterday. "Mate, you wouldn't turn the kid in. There's a code."

"And when have you ever cared about the pirate code, Jack Sparrow? It only appears for you when you can make money out of it."

“If you turned Riku in then you would be arrested for piracy." Naminé's voice was steady and calm. She didn’t move, though.

But Barbossa just laughed. It was a grating sound and Sora's fists clenched involuntarily.

"Or get me and my crew a nice pardon from the navy. All but been promised by the Lady Maleficent herself."

Jack's grip tightened on his shoulder, and Sora’s stomach tightened. "Really?"

"Oh, not for you.” Barbossa smiled. A gold teeth glinted at them like an extra eye. “That reward is only for...acquaintances, shall we say?"

Riku looked as though he had been punched in the stomach - Sora had to admit he felt much the same. "You know her?"

"Aye, in a manner of speaking."

"We're not here to discuss Riku." Sora's chest felt tight. Part of it was being back here, most of it was wanting Naminé back - wanting to get out of this as the three of them - wondering how on earth they could all get out of this. When most of the crew was on the deck. "We've come to take Naminé back to our ship and weigh anchor."

He regretted saying it almost immediately. Barbossa’s eyebrows went up – his curiosity piqued. Naminé looked down, biting her lip.

“I didn’t know you travelled with any ladies, _Captain_ Sora. We all know where your interests lie.” A laugh came from outside. He could feel the imprint of his nails in his palms. “I see you did manage to find the one that got away, after all.”

He didn’t need to look over at Riku to know that his face was red. His own was burning at the memory. There were more laughs outside – it sounded as though the crew were playing a rowdy game, but he bet they were pressed against the door, listening.

That was good, though – a part of him realised. They were relaxed – they weren’t thinking about keeping order.

“The girl has nothing to do with this.” Jack pushed them back another half step. Sora dug his heels in.

“Have to disagree with you, there, Jack. The girl has to do with everything.”

Jack frowned. Sora could practically see the penny drop as he realised they’d lied to him. It seemed to fall at the same time for all of them – Naminé suddenly stood, crying, “I didn’t tell him anything!”

She made to run towards them, but Barbossa caught her arm, pulling her back. She hardly cried out – but the small, desperate sound that came from her throat was enough.

Sora’s sword was unsheathed, Riku’s beside his.

Jack put a hand over each blade, but he was scowling. It was impossible to guess what was happening in his head – he could be weighing up to betray the both of them. There was a moment of still. A moment where they all watched each other, trying to guess the next movement.

“Just where did she join your crew, again?” Barbossa’s voice was quiet. Like a snake in the grass.

“We docked in Morocco for repairs. She met us there. You can ask the repair man – name was Cid.” Sora’s teeth stayed gritted.

“Morocco?” Barbossa’s hand tightened on Naminé’s arm and her jaw tightened. “Interesting. You set out from England – into a storm – and the next time I see you, you’ve got a new crew member.”

“What you’re suggesting is crazy.” The end of Riku’s sword wavered up, as though it had a mind of its own. It was thinner than Sora’s – more a of a rapier – something used for fencing, rather than sea battles. But it looked at ease in his hand – he trusted that Riku knew how to fight with it.

He’d managed with the cues well enough.

“I’ve heard of crazier.” Barbossa raised his free hand, but there was a twisted smile on his face. “But I don’t want to get involved in any more magic and curses. Hand over the boy and the girl won’t get hurt. Her ladyship may even extend the pardon to you, if you’re a good little lion.”

As if he could ever agree. Sora just frowned and raised his sword. A traditional cutlass. The weight was heavy in his hand, but it was welcome. It made him feel safe.

Barbossa looked at him. For a moment, there was something else on his face. Something gentler, perhaps a little bit melancholy. It was the eyes of someone who knew something bad was going to happen, but was going to let it play out anyway.

Then he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He gave a sharp yell to the men outside –

And then all hell broke loss.

Riku dived towards Barbossa. Sora had enough time to catch a glimpse of him lunging forward, form perfect – before the door burst open behind him and he was raising his sword to block a man’s blade.

Jack was fighting next to him, pushing forward and Sora fell back. It had been a long time since he’d been in a swordfight, he realised.

He hoped he wasn’t too rusty.

Naminé was behind him. She’d picked up the chair she had been sitting on and was holding it defensively, legs forward.

He could pay attention – he was too busy falling back on instinct. Raising his sword and cutting it through the air. Ducking under a man’s arm to kick him in the back of the knee and headbutt the one in front of him.

Something hit him in the temple and he went reeling – it was easier to roll on the deck and come up, slashing the sword in front of him.

It was a throng of bodies. Jack was on a chair, fighting two at once. Naminé was pressed against one of the wardrobes on the opposite wall, chair still in front of her.

And Riku was fighting Barbossa – their swords a blur – he was quickly losing ground. The sound was deafening – clanks of steel and yells echoing off of the walls in the small room.

Something was behind him. A small table.

He threw it at the wall of pirates in front of him, charging forward. He half-tumbled, half-leapt over one, driving his elbow against a man’s nose. A sword came out of nowhere, and he parried. Kept parrying and kept pushing forward –

A sword cut through Naminé’s chair legs. He caught it just in time – flicked it away and stood in front of her. Then it was another rush to block, block, lunge, block, swipe. His eyes kept trying to wander – kept trying to find Riku and Jack – make sure they were okay.

There was a crash that cut through the clanks of swordplay.

Riku was tumbling over the table, knocking into the two pirates Sora was trying desperately to keep at bay. They fell to the side – he gave one a firm heel to the nose as he fell, just to make sure he was down for the count.

“You okay?” Sora caught Riku’s elbow, pulled him up.

There was a cut across his cheek, but he still managed to flash a grin. “This isn’t like fencing at Harrow.”

“I have an idea.” Naminé was pressed behind them, still lugging the chair. “The window.”

“That’s crazy!” Riku shouted. His sword was locked with someone else’s.

But Sora’s mind was racing. “I think that’s our only way.”

Naminé hurled the chair at the window, breaking several panes and splintering the wood –

Just as Jack yelled, “wait, wait – wait. I don’t think any of us have thought this through. The _boy_ is the one with the huge bounty on his head-“

“What is he doing?” Riku hissed to Sora. Everyone’s blades had frozen in mid-air, wavering uncertainly.

“-But who do you think is going to get all of that bounty?”

Jack caught Sora’s eye in the crowd, and winked.

He couldn’t help it, he grinned.

“Saving our skins.” He put an arm around Naminé, pressing through the crowd, his free hand grabbing Riku’s elbow and pulling him through.

“I mean, it may be a fair bit, but when it’s divided into – how many of you are there? Twenty? Twenty-five? Can any of you even count that high?”

The pirates were muttering amongst themselves, trying to figure out the maths. They barely noticed the three of them squeezing through, but Sora was still holding his breath.

It was when they reached the door that they heard Barbossa yell.

“What the ruddy hell happened to my window?”

But it sounded as though all hell had broken loose for the second time in ten minutes. They broke into a run across the deck –

The monkey was sat at the gangplank. And it was grinning at them.

Sora’s stomach turned.

They halted in their tracks.

With its small, hairy hands, the monkey pushed at the gangplank.

There was a terrible splash.

“What was that?!” Someone yelled from inside.

“Jump.” Sora felt numb as he said it.

“What?”

“Jump.” He sheathed his sword, tugged them both towards the edge of the boat.

When the monkey saw them coming, it ran out of the way, screeching.

Riku was yelling – the pirates were yelling, Naminé was tripping over her skirt –

And then they were in the air.

The water was just as warm as the air. Bubbles rushed up his nose and into his ears, but instinct kicked in.

Within seconds, he had kicked his way to the surface.

Naminé was by his side, already swimming neatly to the wood of the docks.

Riku was still under, creating too much spray for Sora to see him clearly. Instead, he just took another breath and dived under, hands blindly groping for Riku – any part of Riku – until he found his wrist.

He tugged, feeling his coat weighing the both of them down.

It was easier when they broke the surface. When they were both blinking salt water from their eyes and desperately kicking towards the dock.

Naminé had already scaled it – and she offered her hand down, gritting her teeth as she pulled them up.

They both helped haul Riku out of the water.

Barbossa’s crew had noticed their absence. A few of them were already on deck, yelling. Some were trying to bribe the monkey to go and get the gangplank. There wasn’t time to watch, they turned on their heels and kept running.

Sora wiped sodden hair from his eyes, shaking his head to clear the water droplets. His clothes were heavy around him, as if he was dragging another person on his back. It made it hard to breathe – his lungs were burning and the air was too hot to satisfy them.

“Jack – will he – be alright?” Riku asked as they ran.

“He’s Jack,” Sora replied. “He never stays dead long.”

There was the Highwind. Waiting patiently for their return. Donald was sat in the crow’s nest, and began quacking rapidly at their approach, waving his wings.

The three of them stumbled past Little Chef and the King – sat on the rail, huddled next to each other and watching with their shiny eyes.

Goofy gave a low bark as he saw them, plodding over slowly. His tail wagged lazily, as if they weren’t sopping wet and bleeding.

Despite the rush – the impending terror – Sora knelt and scratched the dog’s head. He leant into Sora’s touch, panting as he scratched behind his ear. Within moments, he had flopped onto the deck, showing his belly.

Naminé was pulling up the gangplank, and Riku was unfurling the sails. Sora finished up Goofy’s belly up, and joined him, his hands shaking and his heart pounding.

He knew the direction like the back of his hand. The many times Sora and Kairi had made the quick passage made it impossible to forget.

He thought of her. Of the sun catching in her red hair. Of her grinning and laughing – poking him awake whenever he snoozed on deck.

His heart ached. But not with the same urgency it had when he usually thought of her.

And that made him worried.

*

It was times like this that Riku thought he should have given his plan a day longer to think about.

Why pirates? Why the navy? Why had he ever thought that a ship was a good place to be?

He was soaked through – his hair a tangled mess again – and it was too hot for his clothes to dry. The seawater dried only to be replaced with sweat.

Why hadn’t he considered the fact that there might be swimming involved with boats?

The reason was to his left, he knew. A sideways glance showed him a Sora flushed with adrenaline at the wheel. To his right, was Naminé. She was murmuring to the King, her fingers running over his fluffy body. Donald and Goofy were either side of her. Every so often, Goofy’s huge nose would veer towards Donald, who’d give an angry start, and peck back at him.

The rain had stopped now, leaving the sky pale and watery. There was still a thin veil of clouds in the sky.

But the longer they were at sea, the quicker the grin dropped from Sora’s face. Within minutes, he was frowning at the horizon, biting his lip. He looked troubled – and Sora never looked troubled on deck.

“Is something wrong?” Riku asked.

“I’m fine.” Sora’s voice was quiet. He adjusted the wheel, slightly, not meeting Riku’s eye. There was a bruise forming on his jaw – yellow and brown, like a banana skin.

Riku turned, so that his back was against the rail around the helm. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Naminé was just kidnapped. We were all in a sword fight. I’m recovering.”

“I was not kidnapped,” Naminé said. “He really did just invite me to talk.”

“What were you talking about?” Riku asked.

“He wanted to see my drawings. I didn’t want to show him. But then he started talking about you – about how much trouble you were in and how easy it would be to solve everything. For _me_ to solve everything.” She looked down, at the King. Her voice was quiet as she continued. “I really believed him – it made sense, when he explained. I’m much more valuable – I’m, whatever I am, born of the sea – whereas you’re another runaway. He made it sound like…they needed me. Like they had been searching for me.”

“Aye, well, Barbossa’s very persuasive.” Sora’s grip tightened on the spokes.

“It wasn’t like that.” Naminé shook her head. “It was – he knew about the storm, and the chest. It really did seem like – like he wanted to find _me_. Like he needed _me_. And if that could save Riku – if it meant that they’d leave the two of you alone – then it would have been worth it.”

“No, Naminé.” Riku tried to sound as gentle as he could. “Nothing’s worth us separating.”

He noticed that Sora’s jaw clenched, even as he murmured, “aye.”

“What about your drawings?”

“I’m sorry. He took them. He said they were valuable evidence, and he locked them in one of his drawers.”

Evidence? Surely they were just pictures of Sora and Kairi. To anyone else, they would be drawings of two children – two children that she might as well have seen down at the beach today anyway. They couldn’t prove much of anything.

It was definitely interesting – definitely suspicious – but Sora didn’t look as though he was paying attention. His eyes were distant.

“Are you worried about Jack?” Riku pressed. It suddenly felt as though he was holding everything together. When they’d started, he’d had dozens of questions and no courage to ask them.

But Sora hadn’t been like this when they had started. Hadn’t been withdrawn and thoughtful. So, if Riku had to be brave ask those questions – to get the Sora he knew back, then so be it.

Sora shook his head. “Jack will be fine. He’s left me in tighter spots before.”

“But something’s bothering you,” Riku insisted.

“How can you tell?” Blue eyes glanced over to him.

“Because normally you’re always smiling.”

There was a pause.

Goofy plodded over from Naminé to press himself against Sora’s side. Not a moment later, Donald waddled up, burrowing his way underneath Goofy to press his own body closer to Sora’s.

His hand came down absentmindedly. “They’re right. This ship runs on happy faces.”

“Hm?”

“Yen Sid said that, when I won the ship.” Sora’s voice was still quiet, barely audible above the waves. “He said the ship runs on happy faces – as long as we all kept smiling, things would turn out alright. We’d get where we needed to be.”

He closed his eyes for a second. Riku watched the easy, crooked smile reappear on his face, even if it didn’t meet his eyes.

It might have fooled him, before.

Now, he saw through it.

"Sorry," Sora said. "I was lost in thought."

"If you ever need to talk-"

"I know Naminé will listen."

There was a ripple of laughter from the three of them, that sounded painfully weak. Riku was sure there was more that was wrong – something really wrong, but Sora kept his smile firmly in place. There was no breaking through that mask when he was like this.

"At least Barbossa won't have stolen anything all that interesting," he continued. "What were the drawings of, Naminé?"

"I couldn't get much, this time. The two of you playing on the beach - tossing a coconut - rounders. There was one of you taking a nap."

"So nothing's changed all this time." Riku tried for a smile, the image of Sora lounging on the deck like a cat coming to his mind.

He hoped that would help take the tension from Sora’s shoulders, but instead it made Sora's smile falter. Just for a second - enough for Riku to regret saying it.

He had said something wrong. But he wasn’t sure what.

"Oh – I also found this." Naminé reached into her coat. In her hand was a pocket watch. She let it dangle from between her fingers, and it glinted in the sun.

It was familiar - horribly familiar. The symbol of a raven.

"We found another member of our cult, then." Sora held out a hand for it and Naminé passed it over. He ran his thumb over it, mouth moving silently. He pressed the top, absently.

And the front of the watch swung out.

Riku stepped around, leaning over Sora's shoulder.

The inside was - empty. Just a normal clock face.

He moved without thinking, taking the watch and running his finger over the back rim. This was something he was familiar with – the way things were hidden in pretty trinkets.

He found a ridge, pressed his nail in and felt, rather than heard, the click.

The back of the watch slipped off.

Sora grinned at him. "Oh, good show, Master Riku!"

There was a moment when he grinned back. Then he realised he was leaning forward.

And smile slipped when he realised Sora was also leaning forward. His heart started pounding as though, just by being close it Sora, it was getting excited.

Their lips met.

The fact that Naminé was watching made him feel self-conscious - made him pull away quicker than he should have. Left Sora lingering.

He heard a sharp intake of breath as he turned his attention back to the watch. Fixed into the back was a thick lens of glass, the rim embossed with tiny symbols. They looked Greek, but had been half-worn away, making them hard to read. Even then, they seemed meaningless – they were no words that Riku knew.

The glass magnified a jumble of lines. They seemed to squiggle everywhere without meaning. It was more like a child’s drawing than an artefact.

"What is it?" he asked, just to hear a voice again.

"Looks like part of a map.” Sora’s finger traced one of the lines. “That’s the Caribbean – I’d know those islands anywhere. Are maps a common thing to keep in the back of a pocket watch?"

"No." He ran a finger over the glass. "But if it’s a map, then it can’t be whole. One island is cut off – there. If there are others with these-"

"They're all connected," Sora finished. "A few years ago, Barbossa ran into some trouble with treasure. _Isle de Murta_. Cursed medallions - take one and you - and anyone who has one - are cursed. Live forever, but never eat. Never drink. Never sleep. Turn into skeletons in the moonlight."

"That's impossible."

Sora shook his head. His smile was still distant. "After everything you've learnt, you still think anything is impossible?"

Riku considered. Just Naminé was enough to discount what was possible and what wasn’t. "Fair enough."

"This is important." Sora closed the pocket watch, slipping it into his coat. "When we dock, we'll do some research - find out what it is - what it does."

"Books would help." Riku said. "For research."

"Not as much as talking to people."

"I had to swim." He poked Sora's chest at every word. He held his ground, but his face crumbled into a grin. "Now, you have to read."

"Never."

"Yes."

" _Make_ me." Sora pouted at him. His cheeks were rosy from the sun, already - Riku was sure if he watched long enough, he would see freckles appear, one by one, like stars appearing in the night sky.

It short-circuited his brain - made him forget they were at open sea, and Naminé was behind him - he grabbed Sora's waist and pulled him forward - kissing him.

Sora's mouth moved slowly - he was grinning and it was hard to keep kissing him when he was smiling like that, his fingers burying themselves in Riku's shirt.

He pulled away, just enough for Riku to start falling into his blue- _blue_ eyes. Eyes better than the sea and the sky put together. Eyes that he didn't want to let out of his sight - ever. Sora was pressed against him, small but _there_. _Warm,_ even with sopping wet clothes. With a look on his face that said he never wanted to leave.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

Sora took a short breath. Smiled crookedly - and Riku would never get bored of seeing that smile.

"You make a good point. Master Riku."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): This episode was more plot and action and less shippy (it was also shorter than usual too, oops) but there's a lot of self-indulgent fluff/hurt/comfort coming up so just bare with me.  
> I also did want to write more fighting and sword fights because - !! Pirates!!  
> But yeah - once again thank you all so so so much for continuing to come and read every week. Thank you so much for the comments/kudos/bookmarks etc etc. I really do appreciate it, especially as the archive has been changing how hits are counted so it's been hard to gauge responses.  
> Hope this lived up to expectations and I will see you all next week!! <3 xx


	15. The Reunion

The Reunion

Home.

Sora hadn't been home in years. Not since Kairi. His heart tinged, dully, at that. Nowhere near as much as it should have. 

He looked over at Naminé, next to him. In the moonlight, her hair looked white. But her face was still the same - still had the same curve of Kairi's nose and pink lips. Maybe it was because he had kind of got her back was why he felt so differently now.

Riku was on his other side. His hair was hidden. There was a scrap of fabric downstairs that he had tied as a bandanna. There was a split in his shirt from the swordfight, revealing a slither of bicep. Now he really looked like a pirate – like a rugged deckhand – and if Sora looked at him for too long, he could feel his heart start to somersault.

Which, of course, made him feel worse. He shouldn’t be thinking about that when they still had a girl to find.

They docked - again - in a bay away from Havanna proper. It was a shielded patch of beach, but that would help keep them hidden. It meant they would have to splash through the shallows to get ashore, but that was fine by Sora. If Riku was so determined to get him to read, then he would be determined to get him swimming.

"I know you want to get going as soon as possible," Riku said, as though he could read his mind. "But isn't it best we lay low for tonight?"

"No one was following us," Naminé said. "Donald and I kept watch."

Donald quacked in her arms, as though he was giving a full mission report. Riku gave them both a look, as if to say, 'you're supposed to be on my side.'

Naminé smiled innocently back. "I want to see the place Sora is from.”

"Tomorrow." The word came out of Sora’s mouth without him realising. It wasn’t so much because Riku was being sensible. Now that they were here, he felt a strange reluctance.

"But this is the beach she left from." Naminé was calm.

Her words cut through him. Of course, _he_ had known, but he had forgotten just how much _Naminé_ knew. He had hoped that she wouldn't recognise it at night.

And of course, she had the power to prod him back into action.

"We'll go down to the beach. Bring your drawing things." He elbowed Riku. "And we'll patch ourselves up."

"Are you sure about this?"

"No one will be coming down here at this time of night. And we’ll be close to the ship." But Sora didn't meet Riku's eye. He took Naminé's hand, tugged her into the cabin whilst he hunted around for cloth, white spirit and bandages.

Riku had the gangplank down by the time they re-emerged, but he didn't look happy about it. The moon had turned his skin back into a pale grey, making the cut on his check stand out as a shocking red.

Sora made an effort to grin at him as he passed.

The beach was secluded, he reminded himself. It was a white semi-circle of soft sand, covered on all sides by green bushes and foliage. They had the kind of leaves a child drew – oversized and too vibrant to be real. Palm trees stood like sentries, asleep in the warm air.

Goofy plodded after them, stopping to roll in the sand like a pig in a mud bath. Donald watched him with narrowed eyes – King Mickey in his feathers, grooming an ear.

Mosquitoes were out in full force. Sora slapped one away from his skin as it perched, drawn by the stink of sweat. The bugs had been what kept people clear for the most part. Whenever they had wanted to sleep down here, brought a net to sleep under – else wake to find themselves half-devoured.

“Don’t let them bite you,” he warned the other two.

There was a flash of fear in Riku’s eyes. “What happens if they bite us?”

“You might get sick.”

 _“Might_?”

“Calm down. This is paradise.”

He was far enough along the shore that he had a clear view of the ocean. He plopped down into the white sand, taking a deep breath. Sea salt and palm trees. That was the smell of childhood. If he closed his eyes – could he imagine Kairi next to him?

Could he ever go back to that? What they had before? Who he was before?

Naminé sat too and – as if she could sense the warm feeling of nostalgia flowing through him - began sketching rapidly.

Riku sat on his other side, still watching him closely.

“You have –“ Sora leant forward, ghosting a finger over the cut that ran horizontally under Riku’s eye. There – it was just a moment – where Riku flinched away, even though they hadn’t toucheod.

“That was Barbossa.”

“Here.” He pulled the cork from the white spirit with his teeth – he noticed Riku’s gaze lingering on the action – then wet one of the cloths with it. He had to sit up on his knees to reach Riku’s cheek. “For the brave hero.”

“I wasn’t – really.” Riku flinched again – but at the sting of the alcohol on the cut, not the touch. He leant against Sora’s hand as it steadied his jaw. This made his fingers shake – made his heart stammer and cheeks flush with heat. There was something intrinsically intimate.

“Facing Captain Barbossa in battle was brave,” Sora murmured. “I’d never be able to do it.”

“You’re the bravest person I know.” Riku’s eyes glinted in the moonlight. They looked as green as the leaves around them. His voice was soft – probably too soft for Naminé to hear as she concentrated on her sketching.

Sora could have laughed. Instead, he felt as though he was punched in the chest and his heart was doing somersaults as a result. His hand hovered, unmoving.

“Well,” he whispered, eventually. “You must not have met many brave men.”

“You saved a duck from being a man’s dinner when you were twelve.”

He was so unwavering – a hand coming up to steady Sora’s wrist. It made him take a breath – he wanted to be honest – _needed_ to be honest. Because just by being here, Riku was – trusting him. Had trusted him, so much all this time.

So he took a breath, and concentrated on wiping the dried blood from Riku’s cheek instead of those piercing eyes.

“It’s easy to be brave when you have someone to be brave for.” He took a breath, still dabbing at the cut. “When I first started on Barbossa’s ship, I was nine – or ten – and so _excited_ to be working on such a big ship, with such a large crew…but I didn’t really fit in with…people. You’ve – heard – what they’re like.”

“Yeah.” It was more of an exhale than a word.

There was another cut on Riku’s bicep. He peeled the thin cotton away and began dabbing at that one as well. He saw the muscle flinch – felt it flinch to be rock hard under his touch, but Riku stayed still. Barely breathing.

“When you don’t fit in, you get blamed for everything. And when you get blamed, you’re the one who gets punished for it…I…feel ten when I’m around Barbossa…so that makes you brave for facing him.”

Riku was quiet. Their faces were close as Sora worked. His heart was still stammering with the admission. The fact that something did scare him, terribly.

But then Riku’s voice came, quietly in the night air. “Well, it’s like you said. It’s easy to be brave when you have someone to be brave for.”

He looked up – into eyes that still couldn’t quite decide whether to be green or blue. Eyes that were looking at him as though he was someone important.

His hands moved on their own, searching for Riku’s hand and cradling it between his own, as if it was made of gold-leaf. Something way too expensive and way too fragile. He pressed his mouth against the back of it, eyes half closing, as if he was praying.

Riku let him stay there for a moment – maybe he was trying to find his breath too – before he turned his hand palm up, cupping Sora’s chin, so that he was looking back up.

“You’re still brave.”

“Then what does that make you?” He was smiling, really smiling, even though his mind couldn’t quite believe it. Couldn’t quite believe Riku, but wanted to – wanted to _very_ much.

Riku glanced down at the slash on his bicep. “A poor swordsman, apparently.”

A breathless laughed came out of him, and he fumbled with the cloth. “My noble knight.”

There was a harsh wince as he caught the widest part of the wound. It made him laugh, as he started ripping off a length of bandage. The mosquitoes remained thick – he kept batting them away, only for more to try and attach themselves to him. As if Naminé third-wheeling wasn’t bad enough.

He glanced at her. She was solely absorbed on her drawing, her hair a thick wall between them.

“You never told me about that.” Riku murmured, pulling up his sleeve to allow Sora access. His shirt was quickly becoming tattered.

“We weren’t on telling grounds last time we ran into him.”

“I’m glad we are now.” Riku smiled. There was a time when that was rare – when Sora would have to savour the memory of them because he had no idea when the next time he saw it would be. Even now they were common, he still drunk them in as though he was stranded in the desert and they were water.

He smiled back. Felt raw and vulnerable – like a cracked-open coconut. This was a part of him that he didn’t let people see.

And Riku was insistent that he was brave all the same.

The only other person who knew any of this was –

Kairi.

He let his gaze fall. Took Riku’s sword hand – there was a cut across his knuckles – and laughed when Riku sighed.

“Barbossa’s been at this longer than you have. And he doesn’t fight by any posh-school rules.”

“How did you get away from it so lightly?”

Sora paused in his dabbing – letting the cloth stay on the cut just to hear Riku hiss through his teeth. Then he pulled his bangs back, revealing the clotted cut on his forehead. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Riku’s eyebrows lifted. He picked up an untouched cloth, letting white spirit drop onto it. “Well then, it’s only fair…”

“No.” Sora leant away from it, feeling his balance start to slip in the sand.

Riku was grinning – like a cat with a mouse – as he reached the cloth forward. “Oh, come now, Captain Sora. Be a brave little lion.”

That was enough to throw him off balance entirely. He fell backwards into the sand, still clutching at Riku’s wrist to stop him. He tumbled as well, still laughing as If the entire thing was hilarious. His eyes were closed when he laughed, and his nose scrunched up slightly – it was incredible.

And there was a sudden realisation that should have been scarier than it was.

That he would do anything for this boy.

Anything at all.

*

This was hardly paradise.

It felt more like torture. The bugs were relentless, so Riku had stayed hidden underneath the blanket –

For all of ten seconds. It turned out, the heat was just as relentless. How could anyone sleep through this?

He didn’t think Sora actually did. Maybe he that was why his sleep schedule had switched so easily to being nocturnal. Why he had looked so happy cat-napping on the deck in the afternoon. As soon as the morning light came drifting into the cabin – a harsh orange – Sora was climbing out of his hammock.

Riku heard him creeping across the boards, and hoped he was going out to the deck. He stayed as still as he could, feigning the sleep he hadn’t got all night.

But then Sora’s hands were on his shoulder, shaking him roughly.

“Move over.”

Riku groaned in protest.

“I am not afraid to tickle you.”

“’S too hot,” he mumbled. Why couldn’t he had boarded a ship heading north?

He knew the answer to that. Then he would never have met Sora – so what would be the point?

“Don’t be such a goose.” Sora was still pushing at him, clambering his way half-over him. It sent the hammock swinging violently. “And anyway, now that you’ve decided to be brave – I’m going to make the absolute most out of it.”

He turned, as best he could, when the whole hammock was a muddle of Sora’s limbs, and wrapped his arms around him – tight. It was surprisingly easy to push Sora against him, collapsing him neatly, even as he protested.

He turned, as best he could, when the whole hammock was a muddle of the pair of them, and wrapped his arms around him – tight. It was surprisingly easy to pull Sora down, collapsing him neatly, even as he protested.

“Could you make the most of it by sleeping?”

“But its mooorning!" Sora wiggled against him - the hammock was swinging so much that they were in danger of being capsized.

"Too early," Riku repeated, burying his face in Sora's hair. It was because he was half asleep that he could do this. Because this had been such a late night thought so often that his mind couldn't register that it was actually happening.

Sora smelt of the sea, and he was pressed against him, all tangled limbs and warm breath.

No one was here, and that helped. That made him feel less conscious of every part of his body. Less terrified that they would be caught and this would end up like every other time he'd let a boy get close.

Sora wiggled again, probably just to keep the hammock from swaying from side to side, but then he settled, his hands curled up against Riku's chest and his eyes half-closed, still puffy from sleep.

Riku could feel himself drifting off - as though Sora was the thing that he needed all this time. It made the buzz of the bugs outside seem relaxing, the sun comforting.

Maybe it wasn't hell. Maybe it was something of the paradise that sort described.

A shout broke the bliss.

"Little lion! Open up!"

Sora bolted upright so quickly that the hammock veered to one side and he half fell out - his foot landing on the deck with a thump.

The voice was vaguely familiar - familiar enough to know that it was a friend and not a foe.

Riku was still scrambling out of the hammock by the time Sora was flinging the door open.

"Terra!"

There was laughter from outside and he could hear Goofy barking incessantly. It was an effort to creak open the door, and when he did, he found that the sun had barely risen. It sat, amber, on the horizon.

Aqua and Terra were on the deck – Aqua looking over Sora and tutting at the various cuts and bruises he had left over from the fight. Terra was trying to push Goofy down. Unfortunately, the dog had decided to cover him in as much slobber as possible, as was winning the fight.

“Goofy, heel!” Riku called.

It only meant that Goofy came clattering across the deck towards him instead. Front paws caught him in the stomach, and he double over, but still managed to catch Goofy’s collar, keeping him at bay.

“Oh, so _now_ you get up.” Sora pouted at Riku, but that may have been because Aqua’s hands were still on his cheeks, squashing them slightly. “You remember Riku, of course.”

Terra frowned. Aqua smiled. She spoke first, cutting across him. “Of course. You’re looking well, Riku.”

The sun had attacked his shoulders, the back of his neck and his cheeks. He was sure he didn’t look well, but it was polite to take the compliment.

“You are too.” Riku nodded.

Then he noticed Naminé – a small figure in the doorway of the Captain’s Cabin. Her blonde hair glowed in the early morning light, her white dress bright. She was watching nervously – a haughty Donald at her feet, and the King on her shoulder.

“It’s alright – they’re friends.” He smiled at her, then stepped around Sora and offered his hand.

She slowly came forward, and took it. There was a moment, where the two pairs of eyes seemed to multiply into hundreds. He knew that Terra and Aqua must be puzzled – might even be angry that they went ahead with their plan – but it wasn’t like they could hide it forever.

Plus, if anyone knew what to do, it would be them. They were _adults_.

“Hello,” Naminé said.

“Naminé is the newest member of our crew,” Sora explained. He smiled at Terra and Aqua.

They were both staring at her, eyebrows slightly creased.

“That’s who they’re looking for,” Terra said. “That’s why we had to come – as soon as we saw you were docked. They’re looking for Riku. And a blonde girl.”

His hands clenched, and unclenched slowly. His shoulders, already broad, seemed set.

Aqua put a hand on one, and it seemed to relax him slightly.

“Might we stay for breakfast upon your fine ship _Highwind,_ Captain Sora?”

*

It was coconuts. Coconuts and fresh water – from ashore – for breakfast. Just like when he had been growing up here.

“You used to steal them,” Naminé said, as soon as she had picked one up. They were sat on the deck in a circle, the morning sun gazing down at them with a fond heat. “There were tons growing down by the beaches, but you used to steal them from the stall in town. Just to annoy the man there. And then you’d lie to Kairi about it.”

Sora’s stomach wobbled – like plates piled too high. There was still a part of him that wanted to scream at her to shut up – now people knew. They knew things that only he and Kairi were meant to know. She was becoming –

Known.

There was something about that, which made it feel as though he was losing her a second time.

Terra was frowning. It was as though there was a dark cloud over him. “How does she-“

“Naminé and Sora are connected,” Riku said. Sounding oddly calm – much calmer than he had been last time he had met _The Wayfinder’s_ crew. “We’re not sure how, but Naminé has his memories, on a subconscious level.”

Aqua raised an eyebrow. “Only Sora’s memories?”

“I can remember Kairi’s too.”

“So she’s the key.” Terra’s hands were on the table. His fingers twitched, as though his fists were going to clench again. “You think you’ll figure out what happened to her by using-“

“I’m not _using_ her,” Sora snapped. “Naminé – she’s making her own decisions about this.”

“I want to help,” Naminé agreed. “What else can I do but the one thing I have a talent for.”

“It’s why we came here. To the place she went missing – to find out more.” He stood, rushed into the Captain’s Cabin and moved papers around frantically. Finally, he found the drawing he was looking for and stumbled back outside to show it to the pair of them. “See – there was a person – they had something to do with Kairi going missing.”

Terra’s brow was furrowed as he took the pencilled image in, whereas Aqua looked concerned.

“I’m getting closer,” he said – and sat – too heavily on the deck. “I’m closer than before.”

There was a pause. A horrible pause, where he thought they would both try to talk him out of it. He could see it on their faces. They didn’t believe him. They thought that this was impossible.

“There’s something else.” Riku came to his rescue. He nodded at Sora. “The pocket watch.”

“Aye – we got this from Captain Barbossa.” He pulled it out, turning it over and flicking open the secret compartment.

“ _Why_ were you with Barbossa?” Terra sounded stern – like a teacher reprimanding a student.

He rolled his eyes. “We ran into him in Nassau – briefly.”

“Sora!”

“Look.” He held it out.

It took a moment for Terra to take it in, before he took the watch, staring at it with wide eyes. He paused it to Aqua, who had the same awed reaction.

“My mother has one,” Riku explained. “And so did Commodore Scar.”

They were both quiet, looking from the pocket watch to each other, then back to the pocket watch.

“We came here to offer you a place aboard _The Wayfinder_ ,” Terra said.

“But the watch-“

Aqua was already pocketing it. “That comes into it.”

“It’s not safe for you here. Every navy man is looking for the three of you – English, French, whatever. And any crew that wants a quick buck is too.”

Sora crossed his arms, leaning back. “We seem to be doing alright so far.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw Riku and Naminé’s raised eyebrows.

“That’s why you look like you’ve fought the whole island in a brawl,” Aqua said, pointedly.

“You have a bright red ship, Sora. Anyone would spot this thing a mile off,” Terra added. His expression softened, then, and his tone became gentler. “You can leave it here, probably needs a good careen anyway. Until things blow over.”

It wasn’t an awful argument. There was an air of sensibility to it – they needed to keep as low a profile as possible and their enemies already knew the ship. Barbossa had probably already guessed that they were headed to Havanna, just by the angle they left port.

But Sora was stubborn. He loved this ship.

And he loved the privacy of it. Just the three of them. The freedom to do what they wanted when they wanted –

To kiss Riku, if he wanted.

“It would make sense, Sora.” Riku’s voice was soft. He was looking down at the pile of coconuts in front of them. How dare he take their side.

"We'd have to take Donald and Goofy with us," Naminé added. "And Little Chief and the King."

"And I'm sure you'd want to trap them all in the hold." Sora looked pointedly at Terra. Trying desperately to find a flaw in this plan. He didn’t want to leave the Highwind. He was the Captain. It was his boat. It was everything.

“They’d need to go in crew’s quarters if it’s busy,” Terra said, evenly. Fairly.

He couldn’t think of another argument. Instead, he glared at the coconut in front of him, pressing half-moons into the flesh with his nail. The silence grew. Everyone was waiting for him, he knew. It was his decision.

And if he said no? Maybe Riku and Naminé would go anyway. They were trying to take care of themselves. All he’d done was get them into trouble.

So he let the silence drag on. Kept picking at the coconut and not meeting anyone’s eye so that he didn’t have to make a decision. So that they would be stuck in this purgatory.

So that there was no chance he could lose anyone else.

He wasn’t sure how long it had gone on for before Terra stood slowly, and tapped him on the shoulder. Without thinking, he pulled himself to his feet, and followed.

Terra had crossed the deck – to the rail that looked out onto the beach. The marks from where they had sat the night before had been erased.

Behind him, he heard Aqua say, pointedly, “I love your dress, Naminé.”

She was talking too loudly. To cover up whatever Terra wanted to say.

Sora let his palm slide across the rail, keeping his eyes downward.

“I can leave members of the crew here, to keep an eye on it,” Terra said.

That was, unbelievably, worse. “I don’t want people on my ship.”

“I don’t want you to dance the hempen jig.” Terra’s shoulder bumped his. “So, how can I get you to see sense?”

“I’m the Captain of my own ship,” Sora said. “And it’s _my_ ship. I promised I’d take care of it.”

“And you have. And you will. _I_ promise you that, okay?”

There was still an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “But, Yen Sid-“

“Yen Sid gave you this ship?” Terra looked at him, then. Really looked. There was an intensity in his blue eyes.

“Aye.” Sora blinked. “I won it in a game of cards.”

“Yen Sid doesn’t lose a game of cards.”

“You know him?”

Terra nodded. He leant more into the rail. Took a breath. “You know I grew up in the East – in Japan.” He waited for Sora to nod, before he continued. The words fell slowly. “My mother made sure I was trained to be a Samurai from the moment I could hold a _bokken_ …Master Yen Sid was one of my teachers…he was – an enigma of a man. I can’t believe you never told me you met him.”

And suddenly he could only think about one thing. “You never told me that you were going to be a Samurai.”

It was incredible. It was exciting. It made perfect sense for Terra, with his long dark hair. He could imagine him in a _gi_ , a huge sword at his side.

Terra’s eyes dropped back to the sand. He sighed. “It’s not as wonderful as you may think. There’s not…there’s not a place for Samurai in Japan, anymore…There’s more life in being a pirate.”

“Can you teach me how to fight like a Samurai?” He felt as though he was full of bubbles – the fascination and excitement welling up inside him. Men told tales about Samurai – they had always seemed like fairy tales or legends. It seemed impossible that one was standing right in front of him.

Terra examined him. Whatever past he had been thinking about had made him seen five years older. But at Sora’s enthusiasm, the corners of his mouth softened. Almost turned into a smile.

“Maybe,” he said. “But it’s hard work. I’d need to train you from sunrise from sundown.”

Sora’s gut clenched. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Oh.” Terra clapped a hand on his shoulder, the smile turning into more of a smirk. “I know – why don’t you come aboard _The Wayfinder_ for a while?”

There it was. And he’d walked right into it. There was no excuse, so he just scowled, instead.

“I know Yen Sid trusted you with this boat.” Terra squeezed his shoulder, gently. “But he wouldn’t have wanted you to be tied down to it. He would have given it to you to set you free.”

They were almost the same words. He hadn’t even realised that he still remembered them, but he could see it now. The old man sat across from him. The curve of his mouth and the twinkle in those dark eyes.

He must have stayed quiet for a moment too long, and Terra mistook it for hesitation.

“And, we can still call you Captain, if it’s that important to you.”

It made him half-laugh. Made him shrug Terra’s shoulder off and try to look as nonchalant as possible. Riku’s hair caught his eye. Shining like silver starlight. He was listening to one of Aqua’s stories, his eyes wide with awe. Naminé had the same expression next to him. There they were. His crew.

“Alright, then. We’ll join your crew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I found these notes in the document:  
> Naminé: Really? Right in front of my drawing?  
> Sora: But the sky’s awake, so I’m awake – so we have to play.
> 
> I hope these softer scenes make up for the action of the last chapter. There was some really nice shippy scenes coming up that I'm so excited for.  
> As always, thank you so so much for reading/kudos-ing/commenting etc etc! I really really do appreciate it and it means so much rn! Please do leave any thoughts/comments down below, and I'll see you again next week!! <3 xx


	16. The Naval Battle

The Naval Battle

They had the rest of the day in Havana, but they didn’t see much of the island.

“Anyone who knows you, knows you’re from here. Everyone’s on the lookout for you,” Terra explained. “It’s not safe.”

They were words Riku was more than used to hearing, but they’d been said too often by too many adults as of late. And things weren’t getting any safer. He could tell that Sora didn’t like being told that at the best of times, and that it was driving him insane now. They were both tasked with helped to get the ship ready to leave again. To carrying cargo back and forth the deck and doublechecking knots.

Sora had not stopped scowling since.

“It’s such a brilliant place and I can’t even _show_ you it.” He could barely see Sora over the crate of cotton he was carrying, but Riku imagined the pout. His heart skipped when he imagined leaning down and kissing it away.

“We’ll come back,” he said. “We have time.”

“Terra thinks we’ll be caught in the week.”

“Who says Terra knows everything?”

“Terra does.”

Riku chuckled. They were in the hold, away from the scrupulous stare of the sun, and they placed the crates down with the others. He’d never realised how little room they had on _The Highwind_. How small a ship it was, but how much he had liked it for that.

“Look.” There was no one down here – no one except Goofy, and he was fast asleep by the cargo. Riku had the courage to take Sora’s hand and draw him a step closer. The scowl melted into a smile. “After this – after all of this, there’ll be plenty of time to come back. And then you can show me around,” he paused. “Maybe in the Winter, when I don’t feel as if I’m melting.”

Sora shook his head, his hair flopping with him, but he was grinning. “This is warm – barely even hot.”

“It’s _unbearable_.”

“Blimey, you’re so _British,_ aren’t you?” Sora was slowly going onto his tip toes, fingers curling in Riku’s hand.

His free hand hovered over Sora’s waist. He knew it was okay to touch him – knew Sora wanted him to touch him – but that didn’t make it any less daunting a prospect. “And where do you think the word ‘blimey’ comes from?”

Sora snorted, and rolled his eyes, falling back on the balls of his feet. Something in his expression changed, his grip loosened and his voice lowered. Became so soft that Riku had to strain to hear it. “And who says that you’ll want to stay around me that long?”

It almost knocked him off of his feet. A dozen things he could say leapt to his mind – all of them much too intense to say out loud. Instead, he found Sora’s other hand. Brought them both up between them. In the shade, Sora’s skin was a proper brown instead of gold, and he couldn’t decide if he liked that more.

“Right now, I cannot imagine my life without you in it.” It was the least dramatic of all the things he thought of.

Sora’s eyes widened. For a moment, he stared, his lips parted enough to show a hint of glinting teeth. He moved slowly, as if he was in a dream, setting Riku’s hands onto his shoulders and stepped forward. His fingertips brushed Riku’s cheeks, thumb against Riku’s mouth before he finally closed the gap between them.

And would it ever not feel electric to kiss this boy?

He hoped not.

Someone cleared their throat.

A tall silhouette stood at the entrance to the brig. Aqua was there, her hands on her hips and her eyes raised.

Riku froze. Literally felt his blood turn to ice. He couldn’t move – couldn’t think – couldn’t breathe. He had been caught, his hands around Sora. Sora pressed against him as if he was leaning against a tree.

He knew his grip tightened. There was a terrible moment where he thought about pushing Sora away – he saw it in his mind’s eye – and pretending that it was all one-sided.

Goofy raised his head at the newcomer, and wagged his tail lazily.

“You better not be slacking off – we’ve got a lot of stuff to shift.” There was a half-smile on Aqua’s face as she said it, though there was still the bite of authority.

Sora stood straight, then, clipping his heels together and saluting. “Aye, aye, Captain Aqua.”

“Sorry,” Riku said.

But she just gave a final shake of her head and smiled. A fond smile. It was almost motherly – but that was a guess. His mother had never smiled like that. She left them to it.

Sora elbowed Riku. “Aye, Master Riku, no slacking.”

“I’ll show _you_ slacking.” He muttered, elbowing him back and increasing his step as he left the hold. Sora followed, trying to match him and soon they were running – chased by a barking Goofy – nudging against each other and trying to get to the smaller crates first. They were laughing – and that was good – Sora’s mood had dropped the last few days. Like a lost puppy.

That look came back when they were sat in Terra’s cabin that evening. All tight mouth and downcast eyes. He was tense. Terra wanted to keep explaining about the situation – justifying them being onboard.

“That pocket watch – we’ve seen it before,” Aqua said. “A few times now. It’s an organisation.”

“A cult,” Terra interrupted.

“A cult organisation. And none of the members are…friendly.”

The pocket watch lay on the table, glinting in the sun. The shine made it look like an eye – a watching eye. It sparked a memory in Riku. He remembered this watch – he had seen it before.

“Commodore Scar had this watch,” he said.

“When did Riku have the chance to meet him?” Terra’s eyes narrowed at Sora.

He grinned sheepishly, and Riku remained staring at the table, feeling heat creep up his cheeks.

“Another person with power. That’s the pattern.” Aqua was staring at the pocket watch intently, as though it was about to get up and walk on its own. “And they all want to get close to – ladies.”

That made the smile drop from Sora’s face.

Aqua realised what she had said immediately. “Highborn ladies. Or ladies married into highborn families.”

“But it’s possible, right? That these people might be behind Kairi?” Sora’s hands were splayed on the table, he was half-standing. “Barbossa was interested in Naminé – she has Kairi’s memories – she could know all about this –”

“Anyone would be interested in Naminé.” Terra’s arms were crossed. His voice wasn’t gentle. “She’s not…normal.”

Naminé was actually in Aqua’s cabin. She’d drawn more sketches – of beach days that Sora didn’t remember. Of naps in the sun and playing pranks on each other. And Riku saw them all. He saw the look in Sora’s eyes – the kind of look that said he wanted to snatch them up and hide them. Get rid of any evidence of that time, but couldn’t. Couldn’t because she meant so much.

So much that he didn’t want Riku to see her.

“But –” Sora’s voice cracked. “But – this – these people – they could be a lead.”

Terra opened his mouth to object, but Aqua cut him a look. She answered instead, “it could be. But don’t put too much hope into it. Kairi doesn’t fit the criteria of what these people look for.”

Again, a memory clicked. The points connected.

“The lady in Paris.”

It caught Aqua off-guard. She blinked at him, blue eyes wide. Then she nodded, tucking dark hair behind her ears. “Aye, we think Cinderella is one of the ladies they’re after.”

“But what do they want with them?” Sora pressed. “What’s their goal?”

“Sacrifice,” Terra muttered. And at the sharp and horrified looks he received, added, “They’re a cult. What else would they do?”

“It’s a ritual,” Aqua amended. “We’re still researching. There’s no proof that they want to kill them.”

Sora was still standing. His cheeks were red, down to his neck and he kept looking between the two older pirates. “So you’ve known? All this time you’ve had this clue and you didn’t tell me?”

“This might not have anything to do with Kairi.” Aqua’s voice was still gentle.

“But it might! You could have told me!”

“It might lead to a dead end.”

“I could have made so much more progress!”

“It’s been _three_ years!”

“So why don’t you let her go?” Terra stood too – his chair grazing across the wood. “Three years – she’s either moved on or she’d dead!”

Silence.

“ _Terra_!” But Aqua had hesitated just long enough. Long enough for them to see that she had been thinking something similar. Long enough for that one moment to strike like lightning. As if time needed to deliberate over the word ‘dead.’

The red drained out of Sora, and Riku was helpless to watch. There was a pain in his ear where the King had bitten him out of shock of the raised voices. Or maybe he was trying to rouse Riku into action. He should have taken his hand. Said something. But he couldn’t. Because Sora was staring, wild-eyed at Terra. Wet-eyed. Tears were pricking at his lower lashes.

Riku put up a hand –

Sora started forward. Left the room without a word.

He didn’t even slam the door behind him.

*

The Crow’s nest was the perfect shape to curl up inisde. The sun was beginning to fade, and this was about the time people would wake up from their siestas. Sora had fallen out of that habit – he loved sleeping in the afternoon. And Donald did too – he curled up against Sora’s stomach. Warm. His head rested on Sora’s fingers as he scratched him under the chin.

Kairi had never liked siestas. She was always most productive in the afternoon – she’d always hated putting her work down to get some rest, no matter how unbearable the heat was. She’d lie next to him sometimes, weaving beads through his hair as she worked. Sometimes she’d hum. Only sea shanties that they heard sailors sing as they came into port – most of them too dirty for either of them to have any business knowing. She made them sound like hymns.

He loved her.

He thought he’d loved her. They had grown up together – lived with each other all their lives – it only made sense to continue that forever. It was an unspoken agreement – no matter the boys or girls that Sora got tangled up with, he’d end up with Kairi in the end. She had always waited for him, just like a sailor’s wife.

Until the one day she hadn’t.

But he couldn’t believe that she wanted to. They had always played house. Whenever he would come home, before they went to find proper lodging, she would take them back to their secret base. They’d play the parts of man and wife. Parrots or mice or snakes would be more than happy to play the role of their children. That had always been it – Kairi had never wanted for anything.

She wouldn’t just leave.

By the time Sora’s stomach was grumbling like a bear waking from hibernation, he pulled himself back down to the deck. Donald gave a small quack – like a question, and he forced himself to give a small smile. _Ships ran on happy faces._

Then he left Donald to keep watch.

Tears had dried on his cheeks and now his face felt itchy, as if he’d been lying out in the sand. His chest ached and his limbs felt heavy, but he was ready. Ready to keep believing.

Naminé was waiting at the bottom of the mast. She was clutching her jotter to her chest.

“Riku’s been looking everywhere for you. You’d better find him, he’s driving himself into a frenzy.”

“Naminé.” He put his hands on his shoulders. Too heavily. It was hard to control his body. “You know things. Do you know if she’s…can you tell me if Kairi’s…”

She considered. Her eyes were wide – Sora was scaring her. “She’s far away.”

“I know – I know.” He tried to soften his grip. To smooth out the huge coat. “But she’s – she’s alive?”

It took a long, horrible moment, but then Naminé nodded. “Yes.”

The news did surprisingly little to ease the weight in his ribcage. It didn’t bring the energy back to his limbs. “Does she – do you know if she misses me?”

Naminé was quiet, looking down. It was agonising, the way she searched the boards for the answer. But then, finally, those blue eyes looked up and met his. “I don’t know.”

She’d always said those words – said them a lot – and they succeeded in making Sora feel worse. He was asking her to do the impossible – to be a machine. And she wasn’t.

“It’s alright.” He drew her into a hug. She returned it instantly. “Thank you.”

“Captain Aqua said that we’re going to France. Have you been there – what is it like?” She was talking quickly – trying to distract him, only pulling away slightly.

But she’d given him the moment he needed to recover. To fix the smile back on and raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me? _Captain_ Aqua? You realise I’m Captain of the Highwind, don’t you?”

Naminé smiled. Relieved – she was relieved that he was back to normal. “You’ve just never acted like a Captain.”

“Mutiny!” He forced himself to fake shock. “You, mutinous wrench, Naminé!”

He made to grab her waist. She squealed, and darted away, running back across the deck. She wasn’t wearing shoes. He chased her, hearing himself laugh but still feeling so heavy inside.

She slipped down the stairs and into the hold of the ship and he followed – half-falling down behind her. The pirates were down here, relaxing in their hammocks or sprawling on the crates .All joking and chatting, most with bottles in their hands. It was the end of a long day’s work and they were unwinding from the stress.

His fingers grazed Naminé’s petticoat, and she gave another squeak – darting behind the nearest pirate.

The only pirate on the whole ship with silver hair. 

Just before he crashed straight into him, Sora caught himself. He stepped back again, putting distance between them and hoping that it was still dark enough down here that his face would be in shadow.

But his eyes were caught in Riku’s. Blue-green. Like the sea. Better than the sea.

“I –” He had no idea what he was going to say. A word beginning with ‘L’ sprung to his mind that he pushed away. It was too early for that.

“Here.” Riku took his hand, steered him back the way he came from. Back up the stairs with such a confident grip that Sora was helpless. Riku moved confidently – the kind of confidence that he couldn’t get enough of.

Only when they stood before the bowsprit, did Riku stop. He kept hold of Sora’s hand. Confidently. As if he had gotten comfortable with this.

“Tell me,” Riku said. The bandanna was around his neck instead of his hair, a dark bundle of fur asleep on his collarbone. His hair drifted in the wind, catching the last of the sun and looking white.

“Tell you what?” It was harder to fake the smile in front of him. Harder to look clueless.

Riku opened his mouth. Then shut it. He looked over Sora’s face, as if he was trying to memorise it. Or perhaps that was what Sora was trying to do – the strong jaw and the bow-shaped mouth. The pale eyelashes.

Riku’s hand brushed hair away from his face. Tucked dark strands behind his ear.

"Anything."

He could have said a dozen things - a hundred things - just about the boy standing in front of him.

There was still a part of him that wanted Riku to go first. Wanted to get something if he gave something.

But they were standing so close and his heart felt like a trapped butterfly.

"I should miss her more." And once it was out, he couldn't stop. "I should be searching harder, I should be saving her, I should –”

Love her.

Riku's grip loosened. "You're doing all you can."

Sora tightened his hold. "I've spent so long thinking about what will happen if I find her, that I haven't thought about what happens after.”

"And what happens after?"

He fought to stay onto Riku's hand, even as he was trying to pull away. "I thought she'd stay. And we'd have our own ship, just like what we dreamed about when we were little...but maybe..."

Maybe she'll leave. Maybe she doesn't have that same dream.

Maybe he didn't.

"Maybe we shouldn't worry until we get there."

We. Riku was here for this. That made it worse, in a way. It was him that was making everything confused.

“If we get there.” That was when his grip wavered, and it was Riku’s turn to hold on. “It’s been three years –”

“So why give up now?” Riku leant forward, so that his bangs drifted over Sora’s hair. “You’re not someone who gives up, and that’s what I…” He swallowed. The word lingered. “That’s what I admire about you.”

The sun might as well have been in his chest. He felt warm – boiling – he was exploding.

“Tell me something,” he managed to say. “Anything.”

Riku leant against the rail of the sip. Kept their linked hands over the open air. Sora watched him toy with his lip.

“My father left when I was four. He’d been having an affair. He left with her.” There was an emptiness behind Riku’s words. Like he’d grown numb to all of this. But there was a frown on his face as he continued, a slight clench of his jaw that betrayed he _did_ care. “And I… _hate_ that he got away…he didn’t take me with him.”

“Fathers suck.”

“Isn’t Leon your father? Or…is it Terra?” Riku’s lips quirked upwards.

Sora scowled, feeling his cheeks warm. He blew them out. “Shut up.”

Riku’s fingers squeezed his. He was smiling – eyes glittering.

“It's his loss. That he didn't see you - like this. That's his loss, because you’re…well, look at _you_."

It was his turn to watch Riku melt. To watch his eyes crease and his chest rise as he took a deep breath. He leant forward, resting their foreheads together and wrapping his arms around Sora. Strong arms. It made him feel small, but not a bad small. As if he was safe – protected.

He stayed still, taking fistfuls of Riku’s shirt, because he couldn’t bare to let him go.

And let himself be protected.

*

“Good morning, Master Riku.” Aqua appeared beside him, next to Goofy, pulling at the ropes. She had strong arms – arms that he had never seen on a lady, but looked good on her.

“Aq – Captain Aqua.” He knew why his heart was juddering. She had seen – she had seen him and Sora, and he was waiting for the reprimand. He was waiting to be kicked off or set a punishment.

“You’ve gotten to know your way around a ship, I see.”

“Yes.”

“We say ‘aye,’ at sea.” She finished tying a knot.

“Ah.” Riku knew that too. Whenever he heard it from Sora’s mouth his stomach flipped. That was why he’d never let it come from his own – it was Sora’s word. “Aye.”

It tingled his mouth, as though Sora was there – his word pressed against Riku’s lips.

Aqua paused for a moment. She tucked her hair behind her ears, examining him. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He was sure that he’d stopped growing – there had been too many growth spurts for him to _still_ be growing.

“You and Sora –”

“I’m sorry.” His fists were clenched.

But Aqua was blinked at him. She was smiling. “For what? Making him happy?”

The only thing he could do was stare at her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He wasn’t used to smiles instead of slaps.

“It’s alright. It’s good that he has someone. Sora’s been…lost since Kairi. And he’s never been close to other people.”

“He has Donald…and Goofy,” Riku murmured.

Aqua glanced up. She smiled, but this time it was a sad smile, then shook her head. “You understand him. And I think he’s good for you too.”

He took a breath. Stared back down at the ropes, running a hand over them as if they needed to be done again.

“I don’t – know what you mean.” His stomach tinged. Now he was the one pushing the blame.

“It’s alright.” She put a hand on his shoulder. Gently turned him so that he was facing her. “Riku, there’s nothing wrong with the two of you. It’s – I know all the things you were told, but they’re not true. And I’m glad that you’ve overcome them.”

Riku hesitated. He was still examining her face, waiting for it to turn. But it didn’t In fact, there was something that he recognised. The way she was watching him back.

“You…know…?” he asked.

Aqua smiled. Her hand squeezed his shoulder. “I grew up in England. Hampshire. I know. And you can talk to me, anytime you need to.”

She was genuine. And his mind still couldn’t quite believe her. But he managed to work his mouth into a smile. Managed to say, “thank you.”

He received another squeeze, and another smile, before her expression turned teasing. “Just make sure you keep your hands to yourself when you’re working.”

Riku gave a shaky laugh, still remembering the fall of his stomach when they had been spotted. His gaze slid over to Sora. He was stood by Terra, striking a ridiculous pose and grinning. His teeth flashed in the sunlight.

Terra was shaking his head, but he was smiling. Yesterday’s argument had been forgotten – Sora was back to smiling.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. Sora had admitted that he always fought to put on a smile, no matter what. He was still hurting, over Kairi, and Riku had no idea what to say. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find her.

It felt like if they did, all of this would change.

There was a sudden yell, “ship ahoy!”

Aqua looked up, like a dog who heard its name, then ran to the side of the ship. Riku finished with the ropes, and by the time he did, the dark shape on the horizon was closer. Was clearly a ship – a man of war.

Terra was yelling orders to the men on deck and they were tripping over themselves to follow them.

“What’s happening?” Riku ran to Aqua, crashed into the deck so hard that it felt as though he’d bruised his ribs.

“A fight, Master Riku.” Her voice was calm, despite the storm in her eyes. “We’re still flying the skull and crossbones. They’re the navy. British.”

“How do you know it’ll be a fight?”

“It always is when those flags meet at sea.” She pressed the spyglass into his chest and joined Terra’s orders. Pointing at men and stepping neatly out of the way of cannons. “Bring up the puckle gun ammo. Take Master Sora with you.”

“That’s _Captain_ Sora!” said boy was running across the deck, a grin on his face. He raised his eyes at Riku as he passed. “The Wayfinder is unstoppable in a sea battle.”

“This is dangerous.”

“What did you expect when you ran away from home?” Sora was tumbling down the stairs.

Riku didn’t know. He hadn’t been expecting to find a boy with bright blue eyes. A boy who made his heart race. He supposed he’d been expecting a quiet ship voyage, trading and staying out of trouble.

Really, he should have known that even with the navy, he’d be stopped by pirates.

They came back up to the deck, arms laden with small, iron balls. There were already men manning the cannons.

“Naminé – where’s Naminé?” he turned to Sora.

“Below deck. I’ll find her.” He turned to go, then turned back. He grabbed Riku’s hand – tightly – and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles.

Then he was gone and someone was pushing Riku out of the way and loading up the gun.

The gun.

He stepped away from it, stumbled down the steps and back towards Aqua because he had no idea what to do. This was a battle, and this was never something he had been prepared for. The closest he thought he’d get to action was to look over pieces on a board and decide which group of men to send against another. Like chess.

This wasn’t like chess.

And all the time the ship was coming closer – prow first to ram into their side, even though they were turning as the cut through the waves. That prow – with the figurehead carved from obsidian. He’d seen it before.

“That’s my mo –”

_Boom._

*

The world was noise. Cannon fire and yelling and the swell of the waves against the ship.

The world wasn’t upright. It was tilted or sideways and a blur of brown wood and blue sky – blue sea? Blue.

It was bright and it was chaos.

Sora was sword to sword with a man twice his size. That was fine. It was how he’d learnt to fight. Now he let his blade slide across the other’s, ducking under and around. Keeping his footing despite the world turning topsy-turvy.

Riku was engaged across the room. Pressed up against Terra’s wardrobe with his teeth clenched and his sword in front of him.

Terra had been the one to seize Sora’s arm. Almost yanked it straight out of the socket.

“Don’t let them get to Riku!”

So he hadn’t. He’d told Naminé to hide below decks and then had picked Riku up from the deck, bundling him into the cabin and closing the door.

But men had already boarded, swinging across on ropes and crashing down to the deck. They’d spotted them in moments.

They man charged again.

_Boom._

The ship lurched, and Sora leapt the opposite way. The man crashed into the door of the cabin. Instinct took over – his foot kicked out – sending the man tumbling downwards with the tilt. They were turning, he thought, letting himself slip too – enough to raise his sword up –

And brought the pommel down on the man’s head.

The ship righted.

The man groaned, and then lay still.

He looked over to Riku.

And burst out laughing.

In the lurch, Riku had also side stepped. The wardrobe he’d been pressed up against had fallen downwards. The other man was trapped under it. Not moving.

“It wasn’t very sportsman-like,” Riku said. Blushing – he was actually blushing after a battle.

_During_ a battle. The ship lurched – but less so – as they fired their cannons.

“Sportsman-like doesn’t win a fight.” Sora stepped forward. Caught himself on a table that pushed out of his grasp anyway. Looked back at the man on the floor. “Help me tie him.”

Riku nodded. They stepped gingerly over the boards as the ship kept moving. As the world kept exploding outside.

The door to the cabin rattled. They’d locked it and thrown a bar across it, but someone was still trying to get in.

“Are we winning?” Riku’s hands were moving deftly, forming the knot around the unconscious sailor’s hands. Sora watched the movement. It was mesmerising. Half-made him want to be the rich boy kidnapped by pirates – if they had silver hair and blue-green eyes.

“Haven’t got a clue.”

They were shouting – yelling, over all of the noise, and Riku’s voice was shaking.

“That’s _mother_!”

“I know!”

Riku shook his head. “How?!”

The door rattled again. They stood. Drew their swords again. Sora felt his jaw ache from clenching it for too long.

He glanced at Riku. At how white his skin had gone – almost the same colour as his hair.

“Hey!” He hadn’t wanted to yell, but they were firing more cannons. He stepped closer – came up on tip-toes even though he could barely keep his balance. “I’ll protect you, aye?”

“Alright, Horatio!”

It was Sora’s turn to shake his head. “I don’t know how that is? Is he good?”

“Aye.” And _that_ word, from _Riku’s_ mouth, made him turn to jelly. It was a pirate word – it was Sora’s word, and hearing it felt like there was a part of him in Riku. A part that wouldn’t go away. “He’s good.”

A body crashed into the door again. The ship tilted. There were screams and yells from outside.

Sora stumbled forward. Caught Riku’s shirt and tugged him down as best he could. Their lips smashed against each other’s in a clumsy kiss. Just in case. He wanted to still feel the sparks from Riku’s mouth if this all went south.

Then he was ready.

Bringing up his sword, widening his stance – and getting ready to fight again.

He felt the same as Riku. He knew that now.

Right now, he couldn’t imagine his life without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): And I shall make Aqua from Hampshire because that is where I am from...(And Jane Austen, who was also like, definitely a lesbian. I work at a Jane Austen tour place, therefore I am qualified to say so.)  
> I am sorry - this is another one of those chapters that I wrote back to back so I didn't realise it was a cliffhanger. It's not a huge one - like, I can tell you that I'm finishing chapter 22 today, so there's no need to worry.  
> But yeah, I hope you're all continuing to enjoy this fic - please do leave a comment below to check in. I really do appreciate everyone's continued support and I'll see you all next week!! <3 xx


	17. The Duke's Seal

The Duke’s Seal

The Wayfinder needed several repairs. There was a collection of small holes in the hull – not enough to sink it – but big enough to warrant repairs before they got to France. Luckily, there was wood on the ship and nothing was broken beyond repair.

They were working by the light of oil lamps, fitting boards across the holes. Enough sea water had already swilled in so that Riku was stood in water up to his knees. Nevertheless, Goofy pushed his way through the flood, managing to constantly stand behind the next person to step back and trip over him. It meant that the smell of wet dog was strong in the hold.

“It wasn’t a complete victory.” Aqua was scowling as she worked next to him. There was gunpowder streaked across her pale skin like warpaint. “They turned tail before we could sink them. Probably got reinforcements coming.”

“Then we’d better sail through the night.” Terra dropped a crate onto the floor, splashing them. A scratched Goofy’s ears and the dog panted. “You can take first watch.”

“Thanks a bunch.” Aqua’s voice was indistinct, as she talked around a nail in her mouth. 

Terra shrugged, ducking back up the stairs with a wave over his shoulder.

Riku felt his stomach relax. He knew he shouldn’t be worried – that if that man of war sunk then a lot of their problems would be solved. But he was glad – he was glad that his mother was still alive.

He shouldn’t be.

But he didn’t want to see her drowned.

And yet he remembered the first time he’d gotten into trouble. The first time he’d been caught kissing a boy. Remembered his mother standing there with her dark eyes flashing like black fire. Of the twist of her mouth and the slap of her leather glove across his cheek.

He’d bitten his tongue. Tasted blood.

Her voice was high – arched. Cut through him to his core. The glove had slapped his other cheek.

He’d been sat. Still. Knowing that it was helpless to try and stop it, because if he stood up to her now, her butler would be the one dishing out the hits the next time. It was fine – the pain would fade. It always did.

It was the words that were etched behind his eyes. Words like ‘hell,’ ‘degenerate’ and ‘shame.’ The promise that he was not part of the family, that he was just like his father, that his mother would fix him before this got further out of hand.

How could this be all of those things? How could what he felt for Sora be those things?

He’d always accepted it. Had accepted that was how it was and even though it was bad, it was something that he couldn’t change.

But now he was working alongside a woman who said she understood. A woman who’d stolen another woman away.

“Captain…” He held another plank of wood up to the hole in the side of the ship. He was sprayed with seawater. When Aqua made a ‘mmh?’ sound, he swallowed, and forced himself to continue. “The things you got told...are they true?”

Aqua was hammering a nail into the wood. She frowned at it, but flicked her gaze over to Riku. “The things regarding fire and brimstone you mean? It depends on your philosophy…you're familiar with Augustine?”

“Yes.”

Her received a pair of raised eyebrows. “Aye.”

He hesitated, then let the word past his lips. “...Aye.” She smiled at that, so he continued. “Augustine asserts that we are born good or born evil.”

“And Aquinas?” Aqua asked.

“That we make that decision throughout our lives.”

“So.” She hammered another nail in. “It depends if you think there would be a God who would condemn his creations from birth, or who would make them a certain way and love them...it depends which parts of the Bible you listen to.”

He’d had the Bible drilled into him at school. At school and at home – knew it back to front because he’d written passages out as punishments in the past. He wanted to believe her. And why not? It made sense. He could think of a dozen verses to back that up.

It relaxed another muscle in his stomach that he hadn’t been aware of. It had been knotted for so many years, but now it was easing. The world did not have to be his mother’s.

It could be his, instead.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Barely audible over the roar of the waves outside.

Aqua shrugged. She flapped his hands away from where they held the wood, drumming more nails into that side. “It was all in _your_ head, kid.”

Which was true, he realised. Aqua had just made him connect the dots.

His gaze slid past her. To where Sora was jumping to snatch a plank held by a crew member. They were all teasing him for his height, until his cheeks were bright red and he was slipping as he landed. There was still something forced in the corner of his smile.

It made him bold. Bold enough to ask. “...What happened to Ventus?”

Aqua blinked, missing the nail and hitting the wood. She lined herself up again.

“He disappeared,” she said. “Not - not in a dramatic way, the way that...We made port. Bristol. We normally go to Liverpool but that time we went to Bristol…he helped us unload and then said he was going to buy a new sword. We'd plundered a dozen schooners on our way over and he was proud of his share. Was really looking forward to picking out one of his own and giving it name.”

She finished nailing up the wood, then began to cross the bottom of the ship. Heading back up to the deck with the bucket of nails. Riku hurried to follow, splashing through the water.

“He never came back,” Aqua continued. “We waited in port a week but didn't hear a word nor any of our crew saw him.”

“But something might have happened.” He was thinking of the narrow alleyways in Bristol – the shadows and shapes he had seen in them.

Aqua shook her head. “If anyone kidnapped him they’d have wanted to squeeze money out of us. He most likely left of his own accord.” Her eyes softened at whatever expression she saw on his face. “It happens, Riku. Sometimes people walk away from this life with the money they wanted and they don’t look back. Sometimes people leave and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

They were above ground now. There wasn’t much light left. Just a spark on the horizon. The air was getting colder too, the further away they got from the Caribbean.

“...But he could have been hurt,” Riku said.

“Aye. And we'll never know.” Aqua pushed the hair away from her face. Her eyes were distant, but her jaw was set. “It would serve him right to get mugged. He was always wearing that stupid gold seal - probably worth a fortune.”

She didn’t seem to realise that he was still there. But the words sent a jolt through him. Made him stop in his tracks because all he could see was a gold seal. Sat on the table on the Highwind.

“Wait. A gold seal?”

“Aye.” Aqua still wasn’t looking at him. “With a winged crown crest.”

He knew that crest. “Sora has that seal.”

Aqua froze. She turned slowly, her eyes wide. It was the only time he’d ever seen her look shocked.

“What?”

“I’ve seen it. That’s Sora’s seal.”

Aqua continued staring at him. Then she took a long breath. “My cabin. Tomorrow. Both of you.”

He hesitated as well – because he knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know if he had the courage to say it.

But the panicked look in Aqua’s eye, no matter how well she tried to hide it, pushed him forward.

“Aye, aye Captain.”

*

Sora had been lying awake for hours. Donald sat heavily on his chest, beak tucked under his wing, as he fought to pick out the sound of Riku’s breathing amongst all of the snores and snuffles. Just a few days ago, it had been just the two of them – _only_ Riku’s breathing.

And how could he sleep when all he could see was her. Her dark blues eyes and shining red hair. Looking at him as though he had betrayed her. Her voice, soft, asking if he had forgotten about her.

Asking him if he loved Riku.

And he knew the answer. It wouldn’t be the one Kairi wanted to hear.

He remembered telling her. They had been sat, side by side on that palm tree, when he had closed his eyes and said, “I kissed the other rigging monkey.”

She had pretended to misunderstand at first. Leaning forward and smiling, and laughing, “you kissed a _monkey_?”

He shook his head, biting his lip. “I liked it. Kissing him.”

Kairi was still smiling, but it was frozen on her face. The light was gone from her eyes. “But not really. Not – it’s only because there aren’t as many ladies at sea.”

“No.” Her hand was next to his on the bark and it looked ghostly white compared to his. “I feel the same about him as I do about…about girls.”

She had gone quiet then. And she didn’t mention it again. She looked away or talked over him when he tried. So, he had kept it all a secret. The boys that he had kissed – had done more with – because they were there and attractive and he liked it.

It wasn’t like that this time.

The cabin was still dark. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there, drifting in and out of a restless sleep.

That was it. He’d have to get up.

He swung out of the hammock, landing as lightly as a cat on the deck. Riku had the bunk across from his – barely a step away, and yet lying there it had felt like a valley was between them.

It was pitch black, and he fumbled his hands blindly in front of him, until he found Riku’s shoulder. He heard a low groan and elected to ignore it.

Instead, he leant as close as he dared, and whispered. “Count to one hundred and then go to the hold.”

With that, he padded out of the hold, arms in front of him to tell when he hit the wall. It was something he was used to, sneaking around when everyone was asleep. Something he did on Barbossa’s ship a lot.

He slipped down the stairs and into the cargo hold, counting under his breath as well. Impatiently. Riku needed to hurry before Sora’s thoughts consumed him.

Maybe he wasn’t coming.

He bit his lip and forced himself to take a breath.

Hands appeared on his waist – fumbling around to find where he was and get a grip. Familiar hands though – familiar arms pressing against him and a familiar voice in his ear. “...Don't you ever sleep?”

Riku sounded tired. His chin rested on Sora’s shoulder, breath fanning his cheek in a warm puff.

Sora slid an arm out and around Riku’s shoulders, turning into him. “I'll sleep when I'm hanging from a rope.”

“Don't.” Riku’s hands tightened on his hips. “Don't joke about that.”

Sora took a breath. It had been the only thing in his head when he had realised what ship had caught up to them.

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Riku’s neck.

“...I can't sleep when I know that _you're_ in the bunk next to me.” Which was true. And that everyone else is dead to the world right now...and that I - I have to not be alone with myself right now.”

“Are you alright?” Riku’s grip was still tight. Of course, that was the question that he would ask.

“No.” Sora fumbled for Riku’s jaw in the dark, reaching up on tiptoes. “There’s a gorgeous boy in the bed next to me and all I can think about is his mouth.”

Riku chuckled, and finally tilted his face down. Their lips met – opened against each other.

The arms around Sora tightened, and he let his hand run down Riku’s shoulder – over those biceps. They were just as large as they looked – just as solid under his grip.

He was stumbling backwards, fighting to keep his footing when Riku was so much taller than him and was kissing him as though there was no tomorrow. Kissing around his mouth instead of on it, and then down his jaw enthusiastically. He heard himself gasp.

The back of Sora’s legs connected with one of the crates and he fell. Found himself sitting on it, still fighting to kiss back.

Riku had one knee on the crate, still peppering kisses onto him as he leant over.

This was different than those times before. This was feeling his heart racing through every inch of him. His hands fumbled in the darkness – trying to decide where was best to hold him – trying to feel every part of Riku now, whilst he had the chance.

His fists bundled in his shirt, pulling it down so that he could run his mouth along Riku’s collarbone. How many times in the last few weeks had he imagined that? Imagined this? And now it was happening.

And now Riku was pulling away. He was out of breath.

“I’m sorry – I need to –” He must have felt the desperate clench of Sora’s fists because his hands covered them. “I need to see you.”

“Oh.” Sora’s hands relaxed. “Aye. Give me a moment.”

He searched in his pocket and found his tinder box. It took a couple of tries to get the match to hiss alight, but then he could see Riku, dark shadows creeping over his pale skin. It wasn’t a dream – this wasn’t some sort of fantasy.

What luck he’d finally stumbled into.

There was an oil lantern still down here from the repairs earlier, resting on the crate next to him. He lit it, carefully, then took a breath.

This was where things could go wrong. This was the part that he was nervous about – the part where they were feeling things and doing things and it was so much easier to break this fluttering thing.

He ran a hand through his hair.

Riku smiled and ruffled it back into place. Or out of place. It didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “This is…too much like hiding in the back cupboard so that the teachers won’t find us.”

“The more you tell me about school, the more it sounds like a right laugh,” Sora said.

“It is _not_ a right laugh to get caught kissing a boy in a cupboard by your ever-so-Catholic maths professor.” Riku shifted, so that he was sat on the crate next to Sora. One leg up, so that it curled around him, and the other hanging down so that it nudged his knees. Safely trapped in Riku.

He leant forward, hands either side of Riku’s hips, and smirked. He knew that his teeth must have caught the candlelight, from the way Riku’s eyes caught on his mouth and his cheeks flushed.

“Is that all you did to boys?” His voice was low. “Kiss them?”

Riku recovered quickly – he was getting better at this. Getting the confidence to lean forward and tilt his head so that those green-blue eyes sparkled like jewels. “I think we’ve both established I’m a varied player of many games.”

“As it happens.” He bumped their foreheads together, lightly. His hand found Riku’s jaw and he ran his fingertips along it, as lightly as he could, hearing a sharp intake of breath. “So am I.”

Riku made a sound in the back of his throat, as though he had a retort, but then seemed to think better of it and kissed Sora again. His arms went around Riku’s neck instantly, clinging onto him as though the ship was sinking.

It was open mouthed and clumsy, but it was so much better than any other time he had done this. Everything was clumsy – his hands wanted to feel all of Riku at once. They found the waistband of his trousers –

At the same time, Riku’s hands went under his shirt.

His fingers were cold on the bare skin, and Sora hoped it would seem that was why he arched his back away from the touch.

Of course Riku could tell it wasn’t.

“What’s wrong?”

When he didn’t reply, Riku tilted Sora’s chin up. There was such a look of panic in his eyes. Genuine worry. They’d always been this open – the first time he’d been this open with anyone and just because –

Just because what?

Because Riku had stayed. The only one. Who’d stayed by Sora.

It was enough to make him relent.

“I told you about what it was like on Barbossa’s ship,” he started.

“You did.” Riku sounded just as tentative.

Yet, Sora’s breath still hitched in his throat. “You – you know how men are punished on ships.”

Riku’s hand dropped. The candlelight made it look as though he was shaking. Maybe it was. “Ah.”

“Just – most pirates have them – but I…it’s different.” It was different with Riku. He wasn’t a pirate, and he was looking at him with concerned eyes. Every other boy had them. It didn’t matter.

“What do you think punishments were at boarding school?” Riku asked, his eyes downcast.

“You weren’t-”

“The cane.” Riku shrugged. Then he tangled their hands together and squeezed them. “I understand, Sora.”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

He took a breath. A smile flickered across his face, because – of course – of course Riku understood. He understood everything. That was why he guided his hands to the hem of his shirt and kissed him again, gently.

Riku worked slowly, peeling his shirt off as though he was shucking a fruit.

And Sora certainly felt bruised like one.

He ran his hands down Riku’s arms, down to the backs of his hands. His skin looked so brown in comparison. The light made it look gold, and Riku look like silver.

Time had slowed down. It was as if they were in their separate bubble, away from everything else. Riku moved slowly, letting his fingertips trail to Sora’s back and up to the crisscross of lines. They weren’t so much raised, as dipped in – drawing a sharp stone across a flat one until it left a groove. He’d also grown since then, which left skin around it smooth – as if an artist had stopped attacking the canvas with a knife without bothering to reach the edges.

He could feel Riku’s fingers running over them, but the touch didn’t tingle like it should.

“Can I see?” Riku whispered.

“If-“ It was hard to think of words when this was all happening. Words weren’t usually a part of this. Instead, he tugged at the hem of Riku’s shirt.

Riku obliged. Looked like he knew too well the feeling of being the only one partially clothed.

There they were. Those muscles. Finally free from cloth. It was enough to make Sora forget his self-consciousness. To run his hands over them with the touch of a butterfly. A scar ran across one of Riku’s ribs – pink compared to the almost white skin.

“Another accident?” he asked.

“A chair, I think.” Riku winced. Ran his fingers over it. “I don’t remember.”

“Oh, dove.” It left his chest too softly for the clench that he felt there.

“I’m not going back.” Riku’s voice was a whisper. “If she catches us, she’ll have to hang us both.”

Sora kissed him again. Tenderly, as if Riku was about to break. Because it was the only thing that he could do – the only thing that made sense.

Then he twisted around, so that his back caught the firelight and Riku could see. Riku could see, and that was alright, because Riku understood. As much as any rigging boy. Maybe more.

Definitely more.

He heard the intake of breath. Knew that it was a messy sight back there, but had never tried to arch his neck to see it in a mirror. Riku’s thumbs skimmed over the worst of it in arcs.

“These are all from Barbossa?”

“A few other ships as well. The navy, once. I didn’t last long. Couldn’t do as I was told.”

He heard the smile in Riku’s voice. “I bet you couldn’t.”

“That was how I found Goofy. They were keeping him onboard to hunt the rats. But he didn’t kill them. They all called him stupid, but he’s not, Riku. He could find them, easy enough, but it’s not in him to kill. He protected them, but they called him lazy and dumb and they’d beat him for it…When I threw myself over him and told them they’d have to hit me instead. When they got bored, they kicked us both off the ship.”

Riku’s lips brushed against the back of his neck. Against the fine hairs that stuck straight out at his hairline. “Was that before or after Donald?”

“After. Donald was staying with Leon at the time.”

“I bet he loved that.”

“Leon calls him the beast from hell.”

Riku’s breathy chuckle made the hairs on the back of his neck prick up. Made him sigh, and lean back into those warm, strong arms. Riku tightened his grip around him, pressed them together.

Skin on skin. Both warm and tingling.

This was what he’d been dreaming about for so long. Longing to be this close.

And now that they were, the only downside was that the words were getting stuck in his throat. That he was desperate to say just three.

Just three words that would break Kairi’s heart.

*

Riku was bone tired. The repairs and Sora’s early morning tryst meant he had barely any sleep. What sleep he had got, had been interrupted by King Mickey burrowing into his hair, whiskers twitching against his ear.

It was hard to sit in Aqua and Terra’s cabin with the harsh sunlight coming in through the porthole. There was coffee in front of them in a mismatch of cups – he was sure that his was actually a small vase.

Sora had poured an extra shots of rum into his. Goofy’s head was on his lap, watching him with those huge brown eyes. Sora scratched him behind the ears. Riku’s heart tightened. Now that he knew how the two of them had met – the bond that they had forged over shared beatings, the sight of Goofy looking so lovingly up at Sora was painful.

“Riku said you had a seal.” Aqua had her elbows on the table. She looked just as tired as the rest of them.

“Riku did?” Sora glanced at Riku, his eyes wide but unreadable. He shifted in his seat, wondering if he should feel guilty.

“Ven had a seal,” Terra murmured. His arm was heavily bandaged, and there was a dark bruise on his jaw. Sora had been right – when he’d said bruises made people ruggedly handsome – he looked more the part of a rough-around-the-edges pirate than ever.

It was the words that made Sora’s breath catch. He reached into his breeches pocket, then placed the seal on the table.

“It’s mine,” he said, as though he was scared of being called a thief. “It was what was left with me.”

Aqua took the seal carefully, turning it over in her fingers. Sora watched, looking ready to jump out of his seat.

“Riku’s mother said…that it was the crest of a duke.” He looked up. “Is that right?”

Terra held out a hand to Aqua, and she passed the seal over. He stared at it intently, whilst she spoke, “it looks familiar…Ven never let us see his.”

“I have something.” Aqua stood, her chair falling over from the suddenness of it. “I have –”

She broke off, rummaging through the chest of drawers frantically. Riku sipped his coffee, his mind whirring. Both Sora and Ventus had the same seal – were very protective of the same seal – it couldn’t mean what he thought it meant.

Surely not.

Aqua brought out a huge leather bound book and dropped it on the table with such a thud that Riku and Terra jumped out of their skin. Terra gave him a wry, knowing smile, just for a moment.

Sora, on the other hand, was sat bolt upright, watching Aqua with round eyes. Eager.

She was flipping through the book. “You must recognise this,” she said to Riku. “The Book of Crests. It’s a good thing to have aboard – let’s you know who’s ships you’re attacking. Who to hold for ransom.”

“That’s…” Riku was going to say immoral. But he was hardly in a position to judge

“She said it was Duke Abner’s. Is that right?”

“Give me a minute, Sora.” Aqua was flipping through the pages, brows furrowed. She examined the seal, then went back. Her finger tapped on a crest – the same one. “Aye, Duke Abner’s.”

Sora was still staring at her. “What does – what does that mean?”

“Might not mean anything,” Terra mumbled. He was resting his chin on his fists, staring at the table. But Riku could see the slight curl at the corner of his mouth. He was excited at the prospect, no matter how serious he was trying to be.

Aqua slapped his shoulder. “It could mean – it does mean –“ She took a breath. “That could be where Ventus has been all this time.”

“It’s no guarantee.” Terra took a long sip of coffee. “But we can cross the channel when we get there. Find out why this Duke’s been giving away so many of the things.”

Sora was tapping his fingers on the table. “Why would he, Terra?”

Terra shrugged. “Could be that he lost them. Could be that it was a gift – to sell on. Could be like a signet ring, to give to family members.”

There was a pause.

He was sure that they had all been thinking it. It was really the only meaning.

But it still seemed impossible.

Sora gave a half-laugh. Leant back. Too heavily. “Yeah, right. More like that was the loot my parents took.”

“What do you mean?” Riku stared at him.

Sora grinned, resting his head in his hands as he rocked in the chair. “I know they were pirates. I can feel it in my gut.” He thudded the chair back down on the deck. “Come on, I can’t be British. Look at me.”

Terra and Aqua exchanged raised eyebrows. Riku could fill in the blanks – he was sure that Sora could too.

But he shook his head, insistently, “I’m Cuban. Through and through.”

“Well.” Terra drained his coffee cup. Put it down a little too firmly. “We make port in three days, if the wind is good. If this lead on the watches goes nowhere, we can check in on England, too.”

“Right.” Sora nodded. He kept nodding, then poured himself another cup of coffee. He drunk it quickly, and kept nodding. Goofy leant more heavily against him, his tail thudding against the deck, as if to reassure him.

It was bothering him. Getting close was bothering Sora. And if Riku was honest, it was bothering him too. Kairi was someone important to him – someone he grew up with – and how could he compete with that?

What if he decided that she was the better – safer – option?

They were getting closer and closer to the truth, but he didn’t know if he wanted to reach it.

He didn’t want anything to change.

But that was selfish of him – who was he to say who Sora could or couldn’t be with?

It was too early in the morning for this – he hadn’t had enough sleep for this. He downed his coffee, too, and stood from the table.

“Is it alright if I get a few more hours sleep?” he asked.

“One hour,” Aqua said. “Can’t be going easy on you, little Prince.”

He paused, halfway to the door. “Little Prince?”

Sora was grinning at him – and when he did that, he shone like the morning sun.

“A boy from a rich family running off with a pirate is like a fairy story, don’t you think?” Aqua was smiling too. He felt his face warm.

“ _I_ like it,” Sora added. His eyes softened as he looked at Riku, and didn’t this boy have a subtle bone in his body?

He opened his mouth to make a witty comeback, couldn’t think of one, and just left, feeling as though steam was rising from his face.

Naminé was stood on the deck, Donald at her ankles. She was resting her jotter on the rail, scribbling furiously with her pencil. She was so intent on her sketching that she jumped when he put a hand on her shoulder. She’d taken to wearing a coat over her stays and petticoat.

“Sorry,” he said. “What are you drawing?”

“I’m always drawing the past…” Naminé spoke slowly, still scribbling. She covered the page with her arm. “So…I tried drawing the future.”

She propped the jotter up on the rail, and turned the page to show him.

It was all of them. Sora, Naminé and Riku stood by the wheel of the high wind, all with wide smiles on their faces. They were holding hands. Goofy was sat by Sora, Donald was fluttering on the rail, and King Mickey was on Riku’s shoulder.

Naminé’s drawings were still quite childish – still basic shapes and scribbles instead of shading. And yet, considering she had been alive for a month – it was brilliant. It was _them_ , and he loved it – he understood how parents felt when their kids did anything.

“Sora!” He turned back, grinning from ear to ear. “Come and look at this!”

There was a pause, then Sora stuck his head out of the cabin. “You’re missing out on precious nap time, Master Riku.”

“Look!” he repeated, pointing to the picture. “Naminé – it’s wonderful!”

She beamed – her face flooding with pink. It made her lips look even more like rose petals.

Sora crossed the deck. He gasped when he saw the drawing, then grinned too. “ _Naminé_! This is _really_ good!”

“Really?” If Naminé had a tail, it would be wagging.

“Yes! It’s –“ Sora grabbed Riku’s arm. He was grinning – so widely that his eyes were almost closed, his lashes looking darker and longer than ever. “We have to find a way to get three! To all keep them, aye?”

Riku looked at Naminé. She smiled, and nodded. “Aye.”

He took her hand and squeezed it.

“Aye.”

Sora put his hands on top of theirs. “To the crew of the Highwind. And the future.”

They would spend the future together, Riku decided. No matter what happened, they started this together and they would stay together.

After all, it was the first time he felt as though he was a part of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Please don't judge Kairi too harshly in this chapter - remember that it's the 1700s and (maybe slight spoilers because I can't remember if I've touched on it yet) she's always assumed she'd end up with Sora. Her words are said from a place of hurt and confusion.  
> I'm not 100% sure on philosophers - I used to be because I have an a-level in it, but I threw out all my workbooks so I couldn't double check the names.  
> As always thank you so so much for reading/following/kudos-ing/commenting etc etc - please do leave a message below to let me know how you are and what you think!  
> And I'll see you next week xx


	18. The Second Swordfight

The Swordfight

It wasn’t plain sailing. It was only a day later that another naval ship attacked them. It wasn’t the one with Riku’s mother onboard, but they were sure they were acting on her demands. Normally, the navy wouldn’t dare get close to a ship their size – Terra had explained that to them.

Once again, though, the Wayfinder won.

But they were getting low on cannonballs and gunpowder, and that was a worry. They could survive another attack before England, but any more than that, and they would be in serious trouble.

They always seemed to be in serious trouble nowadays, and the threat didn’t seem real. It was all hypotheticals, and hard to imagine until the smell of smoke was in the air and the cannons were booming. And even then, it was more exciting than scary.

It wasn’t scary until Sora was away from Riku.

And how could he concentrate on any danger when he was dragging Riku down to the hold before everyone woke up every morning? That occupied his thoughts more than impending doom.

“We can stop in England first,” Aqua said, suddenly. He was standing next to her at the wheel. It was her turn to sail. “If you want.”

Sora had not been thinking of England. He’d been thinking of Riku’s teeth against his collarbone – about whatever Riku had done to his nipples to make Sora bite his lip so hard that he tasted blood.

He reined in his thoughts. Took a breath, and leant against the rail in front of them. England. Duke Abner. His past. _Ventus’_ past.

“...Do you really think you'll find him?” he asked. It seemed like once people disappeared, they were gone for good.

Aqua hesitated. Her fists tightened and untightened on the wheel. “...If we can find out what happened to him then we'll have some closure.”

“Do you really think he’s dead?” He couldn’t help asking. It was the question that he was starting to come back to. The one he couldn’t accept.

And yet, if Kairi was…then things would be so much simpler.

Which was a horrible, awful thought that he hadn’t entertained. It had been a nasty feeling at the back of his head. One that he would never, ever wish to be true.

“Sora.” Aqua had that soft tone of voice again. The one that used to make him feel better – even if she was lying and saying everything would be alright, he’d believe her, if she used that tone. “If he’s not dead, then he’s happy where he is. There’s a reason we always dock in Bristol – it’s so that he could find us. But he’s never come back.”

He let that sink in. He couldn’t really remember Ventus. They’d shared a cabin – for the same trip they were doing now; Havanna to France for trade. Stopping to fight every ship along the way because they could. He remembered blonde hair and blue eyes. Someone very smiley and upbeat, who joked about bossing Sora around because he was the only one younger than him onboard, but never having the conviction to do it.

He’d liked Ventus. And had been devastated when he went missing.

It never occurred to him that he could be dead.

Never occurred to him that he would find something better than this.

What was better than the open sea? Freedom? 

“Is that why you want to stop in England first?” Sora asked.

“I asked if _you_ wanted to stop there first.”

“Is Ventus really the Duke’s…”

“Could be.” Aqua was being very careful. Using Ventus’ name instead of the name of the person Sora meant. “Could be just as likely that one of the servants stole a seal to sell on. If this Duke has plantations out in the Caribbean, then a slave could have taken it as they escaped. Gold stops people asking questions.”

For some reason, that made his stomach twist into itself, like a rag over a mop bucket. He felt…disappointed by that. By something he didn’t even want.

“We’re making good sailing.” Aqua raised an arm to Terra on the deck as he adjusted the sails. “Should get to France in a couple of days. If that’s what you want.”

Sora turned to her. “I have to find Kairi.”

That was the most important thing. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver running up the stairs towards him. In the next moment, Riku’s arm was around his shoulders, pressing them together.

“I’m all done with my chores, if you have a spare ten minutes.” Riku’s mouth was close to his ear and Sora grinned. Bold – his boy was getting bold, and it was fantastic. It made him feel like Aqua – like he was a real pirate and he could love whoever he wanted.

“And what do you want to do in your spare ten minutes?” Sora turned, a hand on Riku’s wrist, tightening his grip.

“Spar.” Riku was already tugging him away in clumsy steps.

“It’s your turn on the crow’s nest next, Sora,” Aqua called. Her eyebrows were raised.

He could only grin from ear to ear back. Just like that – Riku sent the twisted rag feelings and the worries about Kairi to the back of his mind.

“I’ll be there in time!” he replied. “I promise!”

There it was. The feeling was back.

The last time he had promised something, he had broken it.

But it had led to kissing Riku.

So he could only imagine what breaking this one would entail.

Riku was slowing. They were on the main deck, and there were less sailors around. It was late afternoon, and most of the jobs for the day were done. There were a few men scrubbing the deck, and Terra was crossing to the helm.

“Do you really want to spar?” Sora stepped ahead of Riku, so that he was walking backwards.

“Yes.”

Sora wagged his finger. “Aye, Master Riku.”

It was a surprise when Riku smiled and gave half of a laugh, batting Sora’s hand away. “Aye, then, I do. I’m going mad with this waiting – I need to get some energy out.”

“I can think of another way to get energy out.” Sora smirked, and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a _tomcat_!” Riku pushed his shoulder, and he laughed. It was easy to laugh when it felt like they could get hit by a cannonball by midnight – he wanted to get as many in as possible.

Sora caught Riku’s hand. Squeezed it. “Only for you.”

Riku’s fingers squeezed his. His cheeks were bright red, and he was looking at the deck.

Sora swung their joint hands. “You didn’t go mad on the Highwind.”

“Things were different on the Highwind.” Riku had a hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked out to the waves, and a line appeared between his brows. “It feels like – like anything could happen. Like we’re going to be attacked any moment and when we get to France…who knows what’s there.”

Sora was quiet. France was something that he was trying not to think about. At the moment, he was trying to make as much of this time – their time together and any moment they could snatch alone – as possible. He remembered Riku asking to spar and let his hand find own sword.

It was a distraction, at least.

“Well, then, en garde, Master Riku?” He was smirking, and he knew that it disarmed Riku.

Only for a moment. Riku smirked back. Then, drew his sword. It caught the late afternoon sun.

Sora could only step back and draw his own, adding a flourish.

There were a few moments where they stared at each other, and it was hard not to let himself get lost in those eyes. With the waves lapping against the hull, Sora could get lost in them.

He focused as they circled each other.

No, he didn’t have the patience for it.

Sora darted forward in a jab.

Riku stepped to the side, bringing his sword up. And that began it. Their swords clashed, and they exchanged parries.

“And I wanted to talk to you,” Riku continued, stepping away. His eyes flicked from Sora’s eyes to his sword.

“You could have spoken to me this morning.”

They parried again. And again. It was like a dance – there was a natural rhythm to this, and it wasn’t a serious fight.

“You weren’t in the mood to talk this morning.” Riku shook his head, his cheeks still pink and his eyes shiny. And Sora wished he always looked like that – could always look like that.

It made his sword move slowly. He was smiling – thinking again of the dark hold and warm bodies.

“How are you coping?” Riku pressed, knocking Sora’s sword away from his own. “With the Duke and the…”

He deflected Riku’s blow. “Fine.”

Riku raised an eyebrow. Their swords clanged again, and Riku pressed his weight forward. His eyes were serious now. “Really?”

“I –” He tightened his grip. Pushed back. “I was born in Havanna. I know that.”

“Rich men have plantations in Havanna.”

Sora let their swords slide past each other, stepped to the side. He took a breath. Knocked Riku’s sword away again.

And again.

“Sora?”

He leapt forward again. Began a series of rapid slashes and jabs that had Riku stumbling backwards.

“It doesn’t matter. I told you that parents were overrated.” His teeth were gritted. “Let’s just not go to England.”

“Does it bother you?” Riku caught Sora’s overcut from underneath. 

“No,” he lied, putting as much weight as he could into the swing.

“Don’t you want to know where you came from?” Riku dropped the parry, and thrust his sword forward.

It narrowly missed Sora’s stomach. He stepped back, breathing heavily, but not from the sword fight.

“It’s never bothered me before!” Why was he shouting? He batted Riku’s sword away. Lunged forward. “What about you? Wouldn’t _you_ be happier if you didn’t know where you came from?”

Riku slipped on the wet deck as he evaded Sora’s attack. He clutched the rail to steady himself, staring. His chest rose and fell heavily. There was hurt in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with anger.

In the next moment, Riku was pressing forward, and Sora was stumbling back across the deck, his boots slipping on the wood.

“If I had a chance-” Riku’s words were punctuated by swipes of his rapier. Sora fought to block them. “For a happy – life – I – would – take – it!”

“I never _wanted_ that life!” His throat was sore, and his cheeks were burning. It was his turn to barrage Riku with attacks. “ _I’m not you!”_

Riku stumbled. It may have been the slippery deck, it may have been Sora’s words, but he stumbled and his sword didn’t quite knock Sora’s far enough away.

The tip of his blade left an red cut across Riku’s cheek.

He dropped it. Dropped it like it was burning hot, and swore.

“Riku – I’m sorry.” He stepped forward. Slipped slightly too and grabbed Riku’s arm for balance.

“It’s fine.” Riku touched his free hand to the cut. He didn’t seem bothered when his fingers came away smudged in crimson.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you had it.”

“I said it’s fine.” Riku shifted his arm out of Sora’s grip. Sheathed his sword. There was a faraway look to his eyes and a set in his jaw that made Sora feel queasy.

“Let me clean it up.” His hand was still in the air, frozen in time.

Riku shook his head. He wiped it with the back of his hand. “It’s only a cut, Sora. Leave it.”

There was an edge to his voice. One Sora hadn’t heard before. Not even when Riku had been facing his mother.

He lost his voice. Let his hand drop back to its side. It was hard to catch his breath, suddenly.

“You don’t want to be late for your shift in the crow’s nest,” Riku said, over his shoulder.

Sora didn’t reply. He was realising, now. What he’d said. What that meant.

That Riku was angry with him.

And, really, the blame was on Sora.

*

Riku decided to stay at the helm with Terra. Normally, on evenings like this, he’d play cards with Naminé – and Sora, if he wasn’t up in the crow’s nest. But now he felt restless. Still angry. Still knowing that he would have to talk things through with Sora. Still not knowing if they were going to meet up tomorrow morning, and if not, when Sora would come down form that crow’s nest.

He was up there, a dark silhouette against the mauve sky.

Terra didn’t talk much. He stared at the horizon, his mouth a hard line.

Riku had to talk about something. Had to stop thinking about Sora’s legs around his waist. About how his hands had slipped underneath the waistband of Riku’s trousers-

“Sora told me you're a samurai.” It was the first thing he thought of. 

Terra was silent for a moment. He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. “...Yes.”

He bit his lip, trying to think of something else to say. And the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was interested. “What's Japan like?”

“Very hot,” Terra said. “And then very cold.”

Riku considered that. Considered the stories of Samurai that he’d heard in class – the school lessons merging with schoolboy gossip. Samurai were meant to be honourable and deadly.

“Can you teach me to fight like one?” Riku asked.

Again, Terra was quiet for a while. “To be a samurai you have to train for several years. It's not a thing you can force. Not a thing you can learn in one day.”

“I’d still like to know. Even the basics.”

Terra’s gaze finally flicked to him. “Why?”

“Because I miss learning,” Riku said. “I miss school. I did like the lessons - I liked that part.”

“You can go back.” Terra’s grip on the wheel, and his voice softened. “We can stop at England first and drop you off.”

“I can’t do that.” He shook his head, and his bandanna slipped the rest of the way down. He re-tied it. “I can’t leave Sora.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. He tapped his cheek.

Riku’s hand went to the cut Sora had left. It stung under his touch.

“We’ve been through worse.” He turned away, though. Back to the sea. Remembered the amount of times he had done that on the Highwind when he was trying to hide something. “I…I just don’t understand how you can move forward, when you don’t know where you’ve been. You have to know what you’ve run from before you make plans on where you’re going to next.”

“Not everyone is running from something,” Terra replied. “Aqua is like that. Lived on the streets until she decided to step on a ship…she doesn’t have a past. She belongs here.”

“What about you?” Riku looked up at Terra.

“Someone has to be the one to decide _where_ we’re headed. Aqua’s in charge of the surprises along the way,” Terra paused. “I ran too. Ran from Japan. The Samurai – it’s all a fantasy now. But it’s a part of me.”

“Isn’t Aqua’s past a part of her too?”

Terra shook his head. “It’s…not the same.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I.” Terra turned back to the horizon. He smiled, slowly. “It’s not our place to.”

He nodded. Felt that restlessness grow like an itch. Found himself grinning.

“When does – when does Sora get off the crow’s nest?” he asked.

Terra raised an eyebrow again. He sighed and shook his head slightly, but he was still smiling. “Midnight.”

He saw the expression on Riku’s face, and gave a bark of a laugh.

“I’ll pull some strings.”

“Thank you.” Riku grinned bashfully. He knew his cheeks were burning. “Not just for that.”

“Pirates have to stick together.”

That made the grin all the more bashful, and his cheeks all the more red. Pirate.

Riku was a pirate now.

The thought made it hard to stop grinning – made it difficult to pay attention as Terra called a woman over to take Sora’s place. Pirate wasn’t a compliment – and yet it was. It was what he set out to do, and it made him glow with pride.

Pirate. Just like Sora.

He clambered down from the crow’s nest not five minutes later. He scrambled down as quickly as a monkey.

Riku was crossing the deck before Sora could wipe his hands on his breeches. Almost running.

He didn’t really think about it – could hardly think about anyone around them when the word ‘pirate’ was still ringing in his ears.

He grabbed Sora’s hand. Cupped his cheek with his other, and kissed him.

Sora hesitated – taken by surprise – but his fingers tightened on Riku’s.

“I’m sorry.” His mouth was barely away from Sora’s. “I – I just want you to be alright.”

“I…” Sora still looked stunned. His eyes searched Riku’s, a hand just hovering over Riku’s cheek. “I don’t want to be the bastard son of a Lord with slaves.”

“It won’t change you. Who you are.” His hand tucked Sora’s thick hair behind his ear.

Sora tilted his head. He was smiling now – a hand pressing against Riku’s chest. He could probably feel that his heart was racing.

“And you’re the love expert?”

Riku put his hand over Sora’s. Pressed it against that racing heart. Smirked. “Only compared to some.”

The deck was quiet. Everyone was getting ready to turn in, ready for an early start tomorrow morning. There was only Terra at the helm, and his eyes were back on the horizon.

So it gave him the confidence to knock Sora’s leg out from under him as he scoffed. To catch him as he fell – grabbing hold of Riku’s shoulders.

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand.” Riku leant his forehead against Sora’s. There was a thrill that ran through him at seeing those usually tan cheeks turn bright red. “To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

Sora looked at him for a moment, looking completely starstruck, then wrapped his arms around Riku’s neck and kissed him fiercely.

Riku almost dropped him from the shock. But he recovered. There was a low sound in the back of his throat – one he could hear Sora echoing.

“Not whilst I’m trying to steer,” Terra called from the hull.

Sora pulled away to laugh, trying to find his footing again. “Not enjoying the show, Captain?”

“Below deck or you’ll be stuck in the crow’s nest till Paris.”

Sora only laughed again, his hand finding Riku’s. He was tugged across the deck, feeling like two sweethearts running into the woods for a romantic tryst.

That was fine.

They were barely in the door before Sora was turning and kissing Riku again, walking backward down the stairs to minimise the distance between them. He lost his footing and stumbled – Riku caught his arm.

It was then he realised that they were on the same deck as the rest of the crew. But no one was staring. No one was curling their lip, or glaring, or calling them sodomites. The most they got was fond eyerolls and knowing smiles.

His heart was buoyed even further up. Piracy. This was piracy.

It was outside the law. Outside everything he had ever known. Because Sora had been right – he wasn’t Riku. They were world’s apart – had been world’s apart. But he felt like their world’s were colliding – or he was falling into Sora’s.

And that was right where he belonged.

They managed to keep their hands off of each other until they stumbled into the cargo hold. But then Sora was pushing Riku against the hull of the ship – his hands firm. Sora was stronger than he looked.

“Quote something,” Sora breathed. His cheeks were still flushed. “I love it when you quote something.”

“It was Romeo and Juliet,” Riku said. “And you could read it yourself.”

“But when _I_ read it, it’s not coming out of your mouth.” Sora’s forefinger traced Riku’s lips, as if to emphasis his point. It only succeeded in reducing Riku’s mind to sparks. “And it sounds _so much better_ from your mouth.”

His hands found Sora’s waist. Bunched his shirt up as he ran his fingers over his waist and hips. He was so warm – like the sun. It was like having his own personal sun.

“These violent delights have violent ends.” The line came out before he could think about it. “And in their triumph die, like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume.”

Sora’s fingers were still on his mouth. Lingering with that butterfly touch. He lowered his gaze as he thought about the words. Though his body was pressed against Riku’s and it was – warm – so warm.

“Will our story end like that?”

Most likely. Romeo and Juliet, Othello and Desdemona – couples that weren’t meant to be together, didn’t have happy endings. They were two boys. They were pirates. They were from different worlds.

“Let’s worry about the ending when we come to it,” he whispered.

Sora smiled. Beamed, really. An unguarded, not forced beam – maybe the first he had given since they had left Havanna. That was why Riku kept choosing to stay with him – those smiles.

“My thoughts exactly.” He reached up, and kissed Riku again. His heart fluttered, as though it was trying to escape and join Sora’s.

He wished it could.

“I think,” Riku whispered against Sora’s mouth. “I think I’m falling –”

“Me too.”

Sora silenced him with a kiss.

And he thought he might just dissolve into sparks, right there, on the spot.

*

Naminé was the first to spot land. She had taken to the Crow’s Nest – following Sora up there one afternoon and then declaring that it was fantastic. That she could feel the wind in her hair and see for miles – it was true freedom.

It reminded her of something.

“A far-off dream,” she had told Sora and Riku. “Or…a memory.”

“Maybe it’s one of yours,” Riku said. And they had all grinned. One of Naminé ’s own memories – it would be amazing. It would prove that she was someone more than Sora and Kairi’s melting pot.

“Land ho!” she called, in a strong, clear voice. She was still wearing her stolen Naval coat, and it still suited her. Brought out the blue of her eyes.

“That’ll be _La Rochelle,_ ” Aqua said, as the helm. “We’ll make port there.”

“And then?” Sora asked. His muscles were screaming as he helped pull the sails into full mast.

“My lady lives in Versailles. We’ll hire a carriage. If we change the horses on the way we could be there within a day. If it’s not too late, we’ll wait for this group to make their move. If it is too late…” Aqua bite her lip, for just a moment. “Her husband will point us in the right direction.”

“You made any headway with those drawings, Little prince?” There was a small smile on Terra’s face as he used the nickname, looking over to where Riku and Naminé sat at the rail. Goofy was dribbling on Naminé ’s lap and King Mickey was nibbling on the end of Riku’s hair.

Riku sighed – he would have glared at anyone else – but he’d told Sora that he was trying to get on Terra’s good side. Trying to get him to teach him to fight like a Samurai. It had made Sora imagine Riku in a hakama.

He liked that image.

“Do you know this man?” Riku held up a drawing. Sora could see a flash of red hair – Kairi – but there was a man in a red coat too.

The rope slipped in Sora’s hand – burning his palms. Goofy caught the end, just in time, and pulled it back for him. He kept his eyes on tying it.

“That’s Hook,” he replied. “But he’s – nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Riku repeated. He raised his eyebrows.

“Even I know Hook,” Terra said. “He’s been around for years – mainly just scares street urchins down at the dock.”

“Easy target for stealing from,” Sora added.

“Aye.” Terra laughed. “He must do it deliberately – to try and get kids trained up for thieving.”

“Kairi went with him.” Naminé tapped her picture, and it wiped the smile from Sora and Terra’s faces.

“That’s impossible,” Sora said. “She’d never go with Hook.”

“It was..." Naminé scrunched up her nose, trying to remember. "It was to help a friend."

"That's no friend."

Terra was handing him another rope, but Sora ignored it. The end slapped his calf.

"Not _him_." Naminé tilted her head to the side, frowning. Like she was trying to listen to a message from a seashell. "Another friend. A girl."

"Say one thing about Hook, say he's a liar," Terra said, tying the rope himself.

"But he wouldn't have it in him to take Kairi.” Sora rounded on him – as though Terra would have the answers. “And what would he want with her? She's never had more a quarrel with him than any other kid in Havanna."

"...Maybe he's a part of this...group," Riku said, slowly. He flipped through the pictures. "If only there was a picture of his face – he might be one of mother’s business partners."

Sora shook his head. "He never leaves Havanna. Ever. Think his ship's so full of barnacles it's rooted to the bottom of the ocean."

Terra chuckled. But then he shook his head. “Naminé ’s never been wrong about, has she?”

A cold feeling settled itself in Sora’s stomach.

“He wouldn’t hurt Kairi,” he said, mainly to reassure himself.

“Did you ever see a pocket watch?” Riku was pulling himself to his feet, handing Naminé her drawings.

Sora began to shake his head, but then he caught Terra’s eye. He was frowning.

“There’s no saying that it was,” Terra said.

“But it could have been,” Sora replied.

“What?” Riku looked between the two of them.

And, despite the cold, twisted feeling in his stomach, Sora found himself smiling at the story.

“He lost a pocket watch to a crocodile. It ate it – with his hand. He said that he’d hunt it down and slit it open to get it back – was always hunting them.”

“And if you made a rustle in the bushes when he was, then he’d run away screaming.” Naminé was smiling too.

It was unnerving, when she did that, but it wasn’t her fault. Sora winked at her.

“Well then,” Riku said “Kairi should be safe, right? And she might be with the rest of this group. We know they have headquarters in Paris – that’s close to Versailles. That might be a clue.”

“Aye, it might be.” Sora found himself scratching his ear. They’d travelled halfway across the world – away from the one place he _knew_ Naminé would be able to get them information in, because of ‘mights’ and ‘maybes.’ What if it wasn’t? What if this month at sea was a wasted trip? What if they ended up back at square one?

“Ship at starboard!” A yell came from the crow’s nest.

They turned. There was a ship in the distance – a large one.

“Spanish Navy!” the same voice yelled.

“Ready the cannons,” Terra yelled back. “But don’t shoot!”

“Naminé.” Riku gave her a hand up. “Put your drawings somewhere safe.”

“I want to stay and help.” Her face was set, her knuckles white on her sheaths of paper.

Riku looked to Sora, who looked to Terra. He examined her.

“Can she use a sword?” His voice was in Captain mode – barking everything as an order.

“Aye.” Naminé answered before they could.

“Then fine.” He was pointing at certain men, to position them. “Riku, Sora, get your animals inside, then help.”

“Right.” Riku nodded. He watched Naminé dart into Aqua’s cabin to hide her jotter.

As he passed Sora, he put a hand on his shoulder.

“Be safe, alright?” he murmured.

“Always.” Sora smirked. But still reached up on tip-toes to peck Riku’s lips.

Then they both headed down to the hold, to help position the cannons. There was a feeling of unease in the air – more so than when there was a regular naval battle.

If this came to a fight, they would have to use their ammo very carefully.

Or they’d end up at the bottom of the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I did not remember writing this many cliffies and once again I am so sorry. I can say that I'm writing the climax of the fic, so hopefully soon I may be able to get to two updates a week. But it's also slow going because whenever I get to the most exciting part of a piece of writing I get bored lol  
> Anyway I hope this was another good addition to the fic and that you all enjoyed it! Please do leave a note down below and as always thank you so so much for sticking with this and all of the support so far! <3 xx


	19. The Journey

The Journey

The Spanish ship didn’t attack.

Which, in a way, was even worse. Riku stood at the puckle gun, his muscles taught and ready to fire.

But there was no fight.

The ship stayed, safely away from them, as they headed closer and closer to the French port.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Aqua said.

“They might not be after us,” Terra replied. His hand hadn’t left his sword – Riku felt like it was wielded there. “They might mind their own business.”

“ _La Rochelle_ is not a pirate port. If they don’t make trouble now, they will there.”

“I’d rather face them with swords than cannons.” Terra looked around them. “We’ve taken enough hits already – one badly placed shot and we’ll be sunk.”

The wind was starting to pick up – to whip viciously at their clothes and their hair. Riku looked to Naminé. She was stood by him, concentrating hard, a borrowed sword in her hand that looked too big for her.

It was good for the sails. It meant that it didn’t take long before they could see the details of the port – could see the other ships docked and the city beyond. There was a circular turret on one end, and a tower on the other. No doubt a wonderful place to visit, if Riku didn’t feel as though he was going to have a heart attack.

The Spanish ship still hadn’t made a move to attack. Kept a wide berth.

“We should chance it,” Aqua insisted.

Terra shook his head. “It’s. Too. Risky.”

Riku’s teeth were gritted. So hard that it felt as though he would smash them all from the pressure.

Sora came up from the bottom deck, his face stained with soot from handling the cannons, and a similarly faring Naminé in tow. They stood either side of Riku, watching the ship in the distance without saying a word.

Naminé’s fingers curled around Riku’s elbow. Squeezed him tight. He tried to smile at her, but he was sure that it came out as more of a grimace.

On his other side, Sora wrapped and arm around Riku’s waist, his hand resting on the small of Riku’s back.

La Rochelle grow closer and closer.

And still the ship made no signs to attack. It was hard to tell if it was growing closer or not.

“Final chance to attack,” Aqua called to Terra.

He looked at the ship with steely eyes. Then he turned back to the ropes. “No point starting a fight where there isn’t any.”

They need to start tucking the sails back in – readying to make dock. Riku was called to help – he left the puckle gun in Sora’s hands.

They were sliding into an empty port, when they heard a cannon.

It shook the air; sent a flock of seagulls flying from a nearby tree.

But it wasn’t a shot from the Spanish ship.

It was from a schooner on their right.

Another shot sent the ship rocking. From the left this time. Terra caught Riku’s arm as he stumbled, and hauled him back upright.

“Blow me down,” Terra muttered, and swore vehemently. He raised his voice, “bring a spring upon her!”

They were surrounded by naval ships, and they were all firing.

The men scrambled to turn the ship before it was too late – even though puckle guns were firing now. A man was hit, flying across the deck.

Terra pushed Riku to the deck, covering him with an arm. He felt the vibrations of their own guns and cannons being shot, rattling the whole ship like a leaf in the wind.

“We can’t leave port!” Aqua shouted.

Riku raised his head. Just enough to see that the Spanish Man-o-war was hemming them into the dock. They wouldn’t even be able to ram it, the figurehead was on the other side of the ship.

They were trapped.

Terra swore again. “We’ll have to fight.”

“I can help you,” Riku said, even though his heart felt like its own cannon. If they couldn’t get out of this, they would be at the bottom of the ocean, or arrested. Neither was an option.

“No.” Terra’s face was hard. “No, you need to get off the ship.”

“What?”

He was ignored. “Sora! Naminé! Here!”

A particularly large cannon smashed into the hull of the ship, sending splinters of wood over their heads.

Sora and Naminé stumbled towards them, covering their heads with their hands.

“The three of you need to get to Versailles – to Lady Cinderella,” Terra said.

“I’m not leaving you.” Sora’s face was pale.

“We’ve made it out of worse than this, but you have to go on ahead.” Terra took their arms, dragging them to the side of the ship. There was a hole in in the deck, revealing the ship’s innards.

“No, Terra –” Sora struggled against him, but lost his balance.

“We can help,” Riku insisted.

“You can help by following the plan.” Terra pulled Naminé closer to them. She gripped Sora’s hand. “We’ll meet you in Versailles. Wait for us there.”

“ _No!”_ Sora half-stood, then flinched as there was the sound of gunshots.

Hooks crashed into the railings, pulling them away with an ear-splitting creak. They were going to board the ship.

“Yes.” Terra’s eyes narrowed.

Then he stood and pushed Sora’s chest. Hard.

He yelled as he stumbled over the rail and over the side of the ship, dragging Naminé with him. She screamed.

And then there was a splash. Enough of a splash to splatter Riku’s cheeks.

He leant over the side to see them both coming to the surface, spitting water out.

Riku looked up at Terra. Down at his friends. He knew there was no choice.

“Thank you. For everything.” He clambered onto the rail, ducking his head to avoid the shots flying through the air.

“Godspeed,” Terra replied.

Then Riku jumped from the side of the Wayfinder, and into the roaring ocean below.

*

Riku was the one who had hold of each Naminé and Sora’s arms, pulling them down the road. They were kicking up dirt and dust that settled on their soaked clothes like a marker.

“ _Riku_!” Sora’s voice was hoarse from the seawater, hoarse from yelling. “We have to go back!”

He tried tugging out of Riku’s grip, but he was held fast. He glanced at Naminé – her cheeks were bright red and she was stumbling as she ran, tripping over the hem of her petticoat.

Riku ignored him. Kept running down the main road of La Rochelle.

“ _For God’s Sake, Riku!”_

Then Naminé fell. And Sora wrenched his arm again, planting his feet in the ground.

Riku stopped them. Stopped and spun so that he sent out a dust cloud around him. He was panting, staring at both of them with a feral look in his eyes.

Sora helped Naminé to her feet. She leant against him, trying to catch her breath.

“Can’t you see she’s exhausted?” Sora asked.

Riku was blinking at him. “We have to keep going.”

“I’m not leaving Terra and Aqua behind!”

People were glancing at them, as they hurried along – hurried down to the docks were the ship fight was still brewing. They could still see the smoke, like a signal for help, on the horizon.

“Sora. We have to,” Riku panted. “Terra said.”

“I don’t give a damn what Terra said!” Sora’s voice was weak, and he broke off into a burst of coughing. “I’m not leaving him!”

“If we go back now,” Naminé said. Her voice was calm, and she spoke slowly. “We’ll be in the same position Captain Terra and Captain Aqua are in. They wanted us to do the next part of the plan, not be caught or killed with them.”

“Pirates code. No man left behind.” He dug his heels into the dirt.

Now they had stopped, he felt the cold wind blowing through the town. It pressed against his clothes, chilling him to the bone.

Riku stepped toward him. That feral spark turning into something softer. He tilted his head towards Sora’s ear, and spoke softly.

“Terra and Aqua don’t want you dead.”

“I don’t want them dead, either.”

Riku glanced around, then put a hesitant hand on Sora’s shoulder. Squeezed it. Murmured – his lips grazing the shell of Sora’s ear, “they’d want you to find Ventus.”

Sora pulled away. Stared at him. His heart had not stopped racing, and now it went into its own, erratic pattern.

“They’ll be okay,” Riku continued. Salt water fell in sparkling drips from his hair.

“How can you know that?” He hated that his voice sounded thick – as if he was about to cry.

Riku looked at Naminé. He looked back at Sora. Gave a small smile.

“Some things you just know.”

Which soothed Sora’s heart like a cowboy with a temperamental horse. His hands stopped shaking. It was like his mind had caught up to his body from the ship – he was aware of the ache in his arms and his legs. The cut on his lip that stung with seawater.

He nodded. Smiled, even though he could feel blood on his chin.

Riku dropped his hand. He sighed with relief.

“Lady Cinderella will help, when we get to her. But we won’t get far on foot.” It looked as though he was much more focused too. “We need to find a carriage.”

“I have my coin purse.” Naminé fished in her huge coat for it.

“You’re an angel,” Riku said, and she beamed at him. Even though the lump in the purse was pitifully small.

“Can you drive a carriage?” Sora raised his eyebrows at Riku. Trying to sound as normal as possible.

Riku shrugged. “I can give it a bloody good go.”

The sound of Riku saying ‘bloody’ with that posh voice made Sora breathless. He fell to following Riku through the streets of La Rochelle. It was all stone buildings with ivy creeping up the sides. And the further they got into the town proper, the more startled looks they garnered. The three of them were still sopping wet and covered in various scratches, and Sora and Naminé had black soot streaks down their skin as though they’d been daubed with paint.

Eventually, Riku found a stable. Even the horses rolled their eyes and snorted at the sight of them.

“ _Bonjour, monsieur_.” Riku didn’t smile at the man. They both gave each other a harsh stare as Riku continued, talking rapidly.

The man shook his head. And when Riku continued, shook it again. This pattern continued, with no signs of stopping, and all Sora could think about was how Riku’s voice sounded. French coming from his mouth sounded like poetry. It made his chest feel warm.

Riku held out Naminé’s coin purse, still bargaining with the man, until he finally relented, snatching a handful of gold and turning away.

“He says we can have the foal and it’s mother.” Riku pointed at the chestnut mare and the tan horse at her side. It was only two hands smaller.

“Two?”

“It was all I could get.” Riku bit his lip and shrugged.

“Well, I’m the smallest, so I’d better take the foal.” Naminé flashed Sora a knowing smile as the crossed over the hay to the foal. It huffed nervously, and tapped her hoof on the ground as she grew close.

But then she ran a hand through the horse’s mane and it seemed to calm down. Sora could see her falling in love with the animal in seconds, scratching her soft muzzle.

“I guess we’ll have to share.” Riku looked to Sora.

He looked back. “I guess so.”

Riku was in charge of calming the mare and leading her from the stables. He helped Naminé to settle the foal on the road, then showed her how to swing up on top of it and grip her mane.

“Press your heels into his sides if you want him to stop, and give him a pat if you want him to speed up,” he explained, his voice soft.

Naminé nodded. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Back or front?” Riku turned to Sora.

He blinked. “Back.”

He hoped that was right. He wasn’t about to admit that he had never sat astride a horse, not to Riku, who swung himself over the horse’s back gracefully. He settled there, wrapping his hands into her mane and looking down at Sora expectantly.

“Need help, there shortstack?” There was a smirk on his face as he asked.

“’Course not.” Sora went for a crooked grin as he stepped up to the horse.

It snorted, loudly, and it made him jump.

Riku was biting his lip, but his shoulders were shaking. He was chuckling, and that made Sora prickle.

He approached the horse again, taking a breath, then hauling himself up and onto her back, fitting snugly behind Riku.

They started moving, the horses hooves thudding softly against the dirt.

“You sure you know where you’re going?” Sora leant back on the horse’s haunches, her fur bristly underneath his fingers.

“I asked the way to Versailles,” Riku replied. He glanced back. “Don’t sit like that.”

The only other option was to press himself against Riku. His heart started spluttering at the thought – he wouldn’t be able to cope with that for hours on end. But the horse reared her hindlegs and snorted in discomfort.

It was either that or be thrown off. Sora shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around Riku’s chest.

They rode on for a few minutes in silence. A light drizzle started, hiding the sky beneath stony grey clouds. It was still chilly. They were at the part of the day where the afternoon turned to evening, and Sora found himself mourning the tavern dinner he’d been expecting to eat today. Riku’s shirt was damp under his cheek, and already he was starting to ache from the way he was sat.

And yet, Naminé seemed to be happy. She controlled her pony with ease, her hair flying behind her like a ribbon.

“How can you ride like that?” Sora asked. “Kairi couldn’t ride a horse.”

“Can you?” Riku asked.

Sora pulled himself upright, so that his mouth was close to Riku’s ear to whisper, “there’s only one thing I ride, and it’s not horses.”

He felt Riku’s chest stop moving for a moment underneath him.

Naminé shrugged. “I guess there are some things that just come easy.”

“It’ll take a couple of days to reach Versailles.” Riku still sounded winded. “And we’ll need to rest the horses, so keep an eye out for anywhere we can stay for the night.”

“Yes, sir.” Sora gave Riku’s stomach a slight squeeze, and felt him fumble for his breath again.

“With –” Riku needed a second. “With any luck, Terra and Aqua will catch up to us.”

That cast a shadow over them. The fact that they had ran – had left their friends and their crew behind – left a bad taste in Sora’s mouth. He kept thinking of Terra, on the ship. Of how he should have seen the hand coming and ducked under it. Drew his sword and fought like a man.

The horses kept trotting onwards.

“Do you know,” Naminé said, softly. “I think this is the furthest inlaid I’ve ever been.”

Sora looked at her. She still seemed pale, the soot on her face looking darker than black.

“And how do you – how do you feel?” he asked.

She was quiet for a long moment. “Alright, I think.” She tilted her head back, her eyes half-closing. “The rain helps.”

Sora nodded. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Despite the flirting and the jokes, he couldn’t sit still. It still felt as though his stomach was making its way through a printing press. Panic still sat raw in his stomach because Terra and Aqua were trapped on a sinking ship. And they weren’t there.

But he knew that Riku was right. That part of them had to go on.

That Terra and Aqua had found their way out of tighter scrapes.

That, despite everything, he still had to save Kairi.

*

They found a barn off the side of the road as night was beginning to fall. Riku had wanted to knock on the door of the farmhouse, to ask if it was alright to stay there.

Sora had convinced him not too.

The horses were snuck through the doors, and within seconds him and Naminé were leaping into the hay. Riku could understand why. It was warm in here and the smell was strangely comforting. He didn’t think he’d ever smelt hay – smelt farm – so strongly before.

Their clothes were still soaked, and once again Sora convinced Riku that it was fine to steal some dry ones off of the line because, “they’re French, Riku. Remember what they’ve done to your country.”

He was sure that Sora was bluffing – that he knew nothing about history – but he conceded all the same.

It was nice to be in dry clothes, in the warm, in a _building_. Sleeping in a building that didn’t rock constantly felt like a long ago luxury. He sank back into the hay, his hair in tangles around him, and felt his eyes closing.

He was exhausted. Tired to the bone. Every part of him seemed to be aching or throbbing. It didn’t help that Sora had woken him early this morning – it felt as though he’d been awake for a week.

And he had only a vague idea on how to get to Versailles. He was unofficially in charge and he didn’t like that. There were so many things that could go wrong – so many ways that they could get hurt. It gave him a headache just thinking about it.

Sleep. If he could just sleep for tonight, then it would be okay.

A heavy weight landed on his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.

“It’s hurts, Riku.” He opened his eyes to find Sora inches away from his own face.

“What?” he muttered. It felt as though he’d already started to drift off.

“My arms, my legs, my face.” Sora gestured to his newly split lip. “It hurts.”

“And you’re telling me because…?” Riku raised an eyebrow.

“Because if you kissed where it hurts, I’d feel better.” Sora rested his chin on Riku’s chest, blinking up at him innocently.

Naminé had been sprawled out on the hay next to them, and now she sat up. “Really?”

Sora nodded. “Oh, aye. It’s proven.”

“It is not.” Riku pushed himself up – pushed Sora half-off of him.

“And how would you know?” He stayed stubbornly pressed against Riku, arms folded. “Your mother doesn’t seem like the kissing type.”

“How could you?”

“I’ve had many a pretty boy kiss my wounds better after a battle, I’ll have you know.” He was smirking, his eyes glittering as he took in the expression on Riku’s face. “I’ll prove it works. Where does it sting?”

Riku considered. There were many places clamouring for attention, but he chose to pull the sleeve of his shirt aside. There was a gash on his bicep from the falling debris.

“Here,” he said, staring into Sora’s eyes.

Sora leant forward, only taking those huge blue eyes off of Riku at the last possible moment. He pressed his mouth against the cut, his eyes half closed. His lashes looked darker than ever.

It tingled at the touch. At the warmth of Sora’s mouth against it.

Sora looked up at Riku. “Better?”

His chest felt tight. “Better.”

Naminé shuffled closer, grinning. “Oh, do me! Do me!”

Sora did. Leaning over Riku to kiss a cut on the back of her hand and on her forehead.

“And where does it hurt for you, Captain?” Riku nudged Sora’s shoulder.

He turned, shuffling over the hay and the limbs so that he was sat in Riku’s lap.

“Oh, that’s easy.” Sora grinned – that crooked grin that had the sparkling eyes to go with it. He tapped his lips. “Right here.”

Riku raised an eyebrow, leaning back on his hands. It was obviously a ploy.

And yet, he couldn’t resist it.

He leant forward, and kissed Sora’s mouth as lightly as he could. After all, he still had a split lip.

“Oh, no,” Naminé sighed. “Now I’m not interested. If this is just an excuse to be all romantic with each other.”

“Hey, Naminé.” Sora hooked an arm around Naminé’s shoulder pulling her into the pile of him and Riku. “If it weren’t for you, we couldn’t _be_ all romantic with each other.”

She squealed, and tried to pull away, but only succeeding in elbowing Riku’s stomach. He groaned, and suddenly they were a pile of limbs, slowly sinking in the hay.

But laughing. Laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

And even though he was terrified, Riku couldn’t think of anything better.

*

Sora was aching. His thighs and back hurt from riding on the horse for so long, his sword bouncing against his hip to create a bruise.

The only consolation was that he was pressed against Riku’s back. That his hands could rest on Riku’s chest – his firm chest – without getting told off. That he could press his lips against Riku’s shoulders, which tensed as he rode.

So the pros weighed equal to the cons.

They stayed in another barn the next night. This hay loft had a window, on the far side. Sora sat by it, and watched the sky turn from rose to indigo.

Naminé was exhausted. She fell asleep with her head on his lap. Her skin was pale, as pale as parchment, and her hair looked lank and tangled. He’d never seen her look like so drained. This was more than the tired that Sora was feeling.

“She’s too far from the ocean,” Sora murmured, stroking Naminé’s hair away from her face.

“There’s not a lot we can do.” Riku sat on the other side of the window. “Unless…unless there’s a river nearby.”

“That’s fresh water.”

Riku was silent for a moment. “How do you think we’ll find this Lady Cinderella?”

Sora shrugged. He was realising that there was a lot more land than he had ever thought before. How could anyone live so far from the sea all the time? It must be awful.

“She won’t let us in,” Riku continued. “Not when we look like this.”

Sora looked around at them. At their torn clothes, muddy faces and cuts. Riku was right. There was no way they would be allowed anywhere near a lady or her house.

“We’ll just have to break in,” he said.

“We can’t do that,” Riku said.

“Aye, we can. It’s either that or steal someone else’s clothes, fake identities and blag our way in.”

“So either way is illegal.”

“You’re a wanted man. You turn up and say your real name, we’ll both be arrested.”

Riku shook his head. Then he shuffled closer, so that he could rest his head on Sora’s shoulder. He was heavy, but heavy in a good way. It made Sora feel as though he was in the hay loft, and not floating in the ocean. Grounded him to Riku and Naminé.

This was real. All of this.

And he wanted Aqua to tell them what to do. Needed someone to tell him what to do because he was tired. He was tired of making decisions and trying to find Kairi by himself. It had been three years and he had gotten nowhere. Now everything was too sudden.

That was how he fell asleep. Thinking of Kairi and how he was struggling to remember her face.

It was merging with Naminé’s.

So that he could never be sure who he was trying to catch up to in his dreams.

*

They woke early again, and Sora felt like he hadn’t slept at all. His legs ached as though he really had been running for hours. The last thing he wanted was to get back on the horse all day.

And yet they had to keep moving. Because they had been woken up to the sound of cows baying and a French farmer yelling at them.

They had ran, unhitching the horses and galloping away, unable to stop laughing.

It was another cold day, and the wind blasted through his clothes. They felt more like rags now.

Sora pressed himself closer to Riku – as close as he could – and rested his chin on Riku’s shoulder.

“Are we nearly there yet?”

Riku sighed underneath him. “I hope so.”

“You don’t know where we’re going?”

“Ah!” Riku sat up straighter, nudging Sora out of place. “There – a sign.”

It was. A literal wooden sign pointing towards Versailles. There was a peasant woman there and she stared at them in astonishment as they rode by.

Naminé smiled at her. “ _Bonjour_!”

Riku laughed. He untangled a hand from the horse’s mane and squeezed Sora’s hand.

It was when they crested the next hill – there were so many big, green hills inlaid – that they saw it. There was a huge thin palace that surrounded half of it like a wall, blocking the rest of Versailles off from the rest of France. It was a neat, sprawling collection of lavish, sandstone-coloured houses reclining in the countryside, like a Roman empress reclining on a chaise-lounge and eating grapes. They didn’t need to be close to see the perfectly manicured gardens – to feel the opulence coming off the balustrades and pillars.

Versailles. A playground for the rich, if Aqua’s stories could be believed.

And they were going to have to break in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I know I'm supposed to use port and starboard for left and right on a ship but I can hardly tell my lefts from my rights normally so we're not doing that.  
> I'm also a sucker for 'there's only one horse' instead of 'there's only one bed.'   
> And that's all I have for this chapter.  
> As always, thank you all so so much for reading every week, leaving kudos, bookmarks, comments etc etc It really means the world to me and it makes me so excited for next week (Cinderella! Yay!)!  
> Please do let me know your thoughts and if you're still around.   
> I shall see everyone next week! <3 xx  
> (P.S I finished like the main climax scene of this the other day and ooooh! It came out great!)


	20. The Palace

The Palace

Naminé was stepping on Sora’s face and he was all too aware that his crotch was pressed against the back of Riku’s neck. He could imagine the three of them all toppling over.

“I’ve got it – I’ve got it!” Naminé said.

And then she kicked off from Sora’s cheekbone, and her weight disappeared.

Sora wobbled on Riku’s shoulders, and he stumbled too. Luckily, it was forward, so that Sora could catch his balance against the wall.

He looked up in time to see Naminé disappearing through the upstairs window.

“Oh thank Jove – get me down from here.” He tapped on Riku’s shoulders frantically, until Riku knelt down and he could climb off. He still felt uncomfortably hot – uncomfortably aware of how much contact that was.

Riku was red in the face, and breathing heavily. He didn’t look anything like the boy Riku had met in the pub all those weeks ago. This Riku had hair nearing his shoulders, had filled out more whilst working at sea, was covered in dirt, mud and scratches.

He looked like a pirate.

“For someone so short, you are heavy,” Riku said.

Sora pushed him, scowling, and Riku chuckled, bouncing off of the brickwork. They were just outside Versailles now – had arrived just as the sun was setting. They had seen the guards change, then had crept up to the palace.

“Hey,” he murmured, and gestured for Sora to step closer. He did, and Riku took his chin with a gentle hand. He wet his other thumb, then rubbed it across Sora’s cheekbone. “Ah, made a clean spot, now.”

Sora rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, and stuck his tongue out at Riku.

He paused, “have you thought of what you’re going to say to her?”

“I – I figured that you would be the one to…” Riku broke off. His face was crimson. “Since, you’re the Captain.”

Right. Sora was the Captain. And he had to start acting like one again.

They waited. And in a few moments one of the servants doors – partly buried behind ivy and lichen – popped open. Naminé was there, looking paler than ever, but smiling.

Sora and Riku hurried through after her. It was a stuffy, narrow corridor, and they had to file through one at a time. But they were in.

Heart beating in his fingertips, Sora hurried up the stairs.

“There are so many houses out there,” Naminé whispered in front of him. “How will we know where this Lady Cinderella is?”

“She’s a lady,” Sora replied. “And Aqua said that she had a thing with the Prince. This is the Palace. If she’s anywhere, she’ll be here.”

“And there are so many rooms,” Naminé continued.

And they couldn’t be caught. They were covered in hay and still smelt of gunpowder and sweat. In an instant, they would be kicked out.

They stepped out of the servants corridor and into the main one. It was vast - wide enough for the three of them to lay head to toe vertically, and still have room. Everything glimmered, glittered, or reflected them. It was all gold, amplified by the evening light.

Naminé was transfixed, staring around at everything with eyes the size of saucers. Sora had to admit, it was impressive. It was the most lavish, knick-knack filled space he’d ever seen. Gold shaped and morphed into any and all shapes.

And yet Sora hadn’t owned shoes until he was twelve.

Of course, palaces had to be lavish, and orphans had to be poor. That was how the world worked.

Riku was less taken with it all. He stepped up to a large clock his finger hovering over the glass as he stared.

“It’s seven,” he said. “A lady should be getting ready for dinner now. We’ll find where the bedchambers are.”

As if it was that simple.

“How do you know it’s seven?” Sora asked, and regretted it when he saw Riku’s smirk.

“Do you know how to tell the time?”

“Do you know how to climb? Or dive? Or run across the rail of a ship without falling? Master Riku?” He smiled sweetly enough, but there was a bite in his voice.

Riku raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to reply.

“Less flirting, more finding.” Naminé grabbed their hands, and pulled them down the hallway. As she sped along, she looked up at Riku. “Why number the hours, anyway?”

“Because – well…because it’s the hour of the day…” he blinked.

“Why should that matter?”

“It doesn’t Naminé,” Sora said.

Riku rolled his eyes. They turned a corner, and he suddenly bundled them into an alcove. It was a tight squeeze, and they all had to hold their breath.

Which probably helped, because Sora could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. He closed his eyes, waiting to hear a shriek and a scream. There were two footsteps – two people who could happen upon them.

They heard the burble of excited French and squealing.

Sora opened his eyes to see two serving girls disappearing down the hall they had just come from.

“What’d they say?” he asked Riku, who was already pushing out of the alcove, and was halfway down the corridor.

“They said Lady Cinderella chose the pearls tonight because she’s expecting a proposal,” Riku said. “Her bedchambers must be down here somewhere.”

They pressed an ear against every door, listening for any sound inside, even though it was unlikely that anyone inside would be talking to themselves.

Not talking – singing.

They heard a woman singing behind an ornate door. It was the only sound they heard. Riku nodded at Sora, one hand on the doorknob. He frowned in response.

Naminé stared at them both, then knocked smartly on the door.

He stared at her. That wasn’t – he hadn’t thought of anything to say yet – hadn’t come up with any kind of plan – he wasn’t ready!

A soft voice called from inside, “ _entrer_.”

Riku looked at Sora. Then he pushed the door open.

It was another huge room, embroidered drapes everywhere so that everything was covered in tiny flowers and _fleur de lis_. There were less sparkles here, less mirrors – something less Versailles about the whole place.

A woman was sat at a dressing table. A woman with skin that held the sheen of a pearl. Her hair was piled up around her head, the colour of gold. She wore a blue so pale that it looked more like white – like the colour of a Winter Moon. She was beautiful – not anything about her features in particular – there was just a kind of beauty that shone through.

She was blinking at them, taking in their dishevelled appearance. But she didn’t look scared.

“ _Pardon, Madame,_ ” Riku said. He gave an awkward half-bow, his face flushing underneath its covering of dirt. “ _Dame_ Cinderella?”

The woman nodded. She seemed calm, considering she had three intruders in her room.

“ _Nous sommes amis du Capitaine_ Aqua,” Riku said.

“Oh!” The woman covered her mouth with her hand. Covering pink lips and pink cheeks. She spoke with heavily accented English, and yet it never sounded better. “You are English?”

“Yes!” Sora breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes – we were travelling with Aqua, but there was a battle at the dock-“

“A battle?”

“She sent us ahead – she sent us to you.” He was stepping forward, traipsing mud and hay over finely woven rugs.

The woman, Lady Cinderella, stood. Her dress caught the candlelight and rippled like a river.

“Aqua is ‘ere? In France?”

“She sent us…” Sora looked helplessly to Riku. He understood, and spoke a few rapid sentences to Cinderella. Her eyes – crystal blue – widened and she covered her mouth again.

“Oh, _mon dieu_ ,” she murmured. Her hand moved down, fingered the glass heart hanging from around her neck. “So, you are in trouble?”

“No, you are too,” Sora said. And added, awkwardly, “my – my lady…We believe there’s a – a group of people who want to hurt you.”

“A group?”

“They carry pocket watches,” Sora said, reaching for his belt. That was when he realised that he didn’t have Barbossa’s. Terra had been carrying it. “And they’re…they’re looking for ladies, they already took-“

There was a yell from outside, and the door burst open.

Musketeers stood there – three of them, pointing their guns at them. They were stood so close that the barrels almost pressed against their chests.

Sora still reached for his sword, but a man was on him the next moment. He was tired, still aching from the horse ride – and his arms were pinned behind his back before he could stop it.

His sword clattered to the floor.

Riku managed to headbutt the man holding him, but he was held fast too. The same went for Naminé.

The men were shouting, and Sora was shaken so that his head lolled.

But Lady Cinderella’s voice cut across them. “ _Arête!_ ”

The men were silenced. And it seemed incredible that a woman as graceful as that could have such an effect on them. She spoke rapidly, and sounded angry. Spots of colour appeared on her cheeks.

“What’s happening?” Sora whispered to Riku, and received a hit on the back of his head for the trouble.

One of the men replied to Cinderella, and she looked at Riku expectantly.

“They’re asking for proof of what we say,” Riku replied.

Sora shook his head, desperately.

He’d let them all down. Again.

But Cinderella was talking again. Her eyes were on Sora’s, staring as if they were looking into his soul.

“You are ze little lion, _oui_?”

Sora felt heat rising to his cheeks. He nodded, “ _o-oui_.”

“Ah.” The woman smiled at him, pressing her hands over her heart and closing her eyes. Her eyelashes fanned across her cheeks and he could see why Aqua had fallen so quickly and so heavily for this woman.

When she opened her eyes, she spoke again to the guards in French.

Whatever she said made them release them, though they all grumbled about it. They remained at the door in a row, watching them with eagle eyes.

Cinderella smiled sheepishly at them. “They say you came through ze window?”

“We had to,” Sora said. “We couldn’t – we’re a bit…”

“Scruffy,” Cinderella finished. She laughed at the expression on his face. “I know how it feels.” She took a breath, then clapped the tips of her fingers together. “Why don’t you ‘ave a bath and a spare change of clothes, and zen you can explain to me?”

They didn’t need to look at each other to check.

All three of them nodded empathetically.

*

Naminé had more colour now. Her cheeks looked pink again and her hair had its sheen back. And yet there was still something in her eyes that was dull. Something tired.

Of course, she took his breath away whenever she wore a real dress. When her hair had been done and she had borrowed some of Cinderella’s jewellry, it made her look like a fairytale Princess.

“You look like sisters,” Riku said to her, as he stepped out of the room he had been shown to. 

Naminé rolled her arms and tapped his arm, but she was smiling.

And then the door across from his opened, and there was Sora.

He’d never seen the boy clean. Let alone clean, and dressed well.

His hair still stook up like a bird’s next, but it shone in the soft light of the lamps. His skin glowed too – it really was bronze. He’d never seen so much of it all that shining, bronze colour. It made the freckles across his cheeks look even darker. Made his eyes all the deeper blue. As if Riku would fall into them, if he wasn’t careful.

The silk cravat, the embroidered waistcoat and tail coat – all just made him look like a Prince. It helped that it was a midnight blue with gold trim. Helped that the cravat was such a pearly white that it stood out against his skin.

Helped that it hugged Sora’s figure just the right amount – that his breeches were just a little tighter than usual.

He was stunning.

And Riku couldn’t find his voice. He just stared, mouth hanging open at Sora.

But Sora was staring at him. His lips slightly parted, taking in every part of Riku as though time had frozen, and they had an eternity to do so.

“Oh,” Sora said.

Naminé was watching the two of them, biting her lip even though she was still grinning from ear to ear.

“Sora, you look handsome,” she said. She tugged on Riku’s sleeve. “Doesn’t he look handsome?”

Riku’s breath came out as a wheeze, “yes.”

“And Sora, doesn’t Riku look stunning?” She turned to Sora, still smiling.

Stunning seemed to be the right word. Sora remained staring at him, completely frozen.

Then he smirked and said, “someone’s living up to the nickname of Little Prince, aren’t they?”

Riku looked at the floor, his face burning, and tried to think of something clever to say.

Nothing came to him.

He was only saved by a servant asking them to follow her down to the dining room. There was still enough of his mind for him to nod, and get the others to follow him.

The back of Sora’s hand brushed against his as they walked – caught his little finger for a moment, and when Riku glanced at him he smiled, then let it go.

They weren’t eating in the main dining hall, just a smaller parlour. Even so, it was still covered in gold trinkets and lavish paintings. There was still a mountain of food on the middle of the table.

Lady Cinderella was waiting for them, with a man Riku could only assume was the Prince – he certainly lived up to the title. He had the kind of face that belonged in a painting – the kind of person who deserved Sora’s admiring stares.

There was silence for the first few minutes, as they filled their plates and tucked in. It felt as though Riku hadn’t eaten in a week, and judging by the way Sora and Naminé were eating, they felt the same.

“Now,” Cinderella said, swirling wine around in her glass. “What ‘as ‘appened? Tell me from the beginning.”

Riku looked to Sora, who swallowed down a huge mouthful of duck and dauphinoise.

“From the very beginning?” he asked.

Cinderella’s smile was sweet. “Where else?”

So Sora did. He started by telling her about Kairi, about meeting Riku, about everything that had happened to them up until now. She listened to it all, gasping in the appropriate parts. She took the Prince’s hand at one point, as though she needed the strength. He was listening too, with a bemused smile as he watched her reactions. It was clear from the way that he looked at her that he was head over heels for her.

Was that the expression on Riku’s face was he looked at Sora?

At the end of Sora’s story, his hands quivered and his voice was slightly hoarse.

Riku pressed his foot against Sora’s. So that their knees nudged ever so slightly.

It stopped Sora’s hands from quivering.

“ _Votre altesse_.” Cinderella took the Prince’s hand and squeezed it between two of her own. “If Captain’s Aqua and Terra are being held in a prison-“

“I shall send word immediately,” the Prince replied. But he shook his head. “My lady, more pirates?”

“Do you not remember where you found me?” Cinderella replied with a charming smile.

The Prince smiled and nodded, “very well. And what of this – this business the boys speak of?”

Cinderella paused. Her eyes looked them over.

“I shall talk to Captain Aqua. In the meantime, we will remain vigilant. And these children need rest.”

“Vigilance?” Sora echoed. “No – we have to – you have to do more than that!”

The Prince was starting to frown, and Riku straightened, ready to step in.

“Please, our musketeers are very well trained. They will ensure that no harm comes to Lady Cinderella.” The Prince stood, and Riku put a hand on Sora’s shoulder to stop him from doing the same. “I will send a messenger now.”

Cinderella stood too, gathering her skirts elegantly. She slipped her hand into the Prince’s arm.

“Let me come too.” She gave the three of them a last smile. “Please eat as much as you like and then get some rest. I’m sure you will be reunited with your friends in no time.”

“Thank you for everything.” Riku ducked his head. He still had hold of Sora, and tightened his grip.

He only let go when the door closed gently behind the royal pair.

“Children?” Sora jumped up from the chaise lounge, running his hands through his hair. “ _Children_? They’re making a mistake!”

“You can’t expect them to take the word of three pirates,” Riku said. He helped himself to more bread.

“Why not?” Naminé asked. “She trusted us this far.”

“We can’t say who is coming after her, or when, or even if they are,” Riku explained. “What more can they do against a phantom attacker than to be on their guard?”

"I like you more when you're less reasonable." Sora scowled at him. "They're treating us like children?"

"Well..." Riku got to his feet, slowly. They ached in protest. "It would help if some of us were adult sized, wouldn't it?"

Sora's hand went to his hip - for his sword - and grasped at empty air.

Riku smiled."The lady was right, we need to rest. Just for tonight. Nothing bad can happen overnight but if we get any more exhausted, we won't be in any state to fight."

Naminé raised her hand. She rose from the sofa, picking a fruit stand up by the stem. "I would like to sleep in a real bed. For the first time. Or anywhere that doesn't smell like cows."

"The ayes have it." Riku offered Naminé an arm, which she accepted. "Come on, lion cub, I'm sure there will be plenty of adventure tomorrow."

Sora remained pouting at him for another moment. Riku wasnt going to complain. In those clothes, all cleaned up, Sora looked like a Prince. The kind of Prince who hated royal life. The kind of Prince who would relinquish his crown for an adventure.

But then Sora's eyes narrowed, and his mouth twisted into a crooked grin.

"Oh, aye." He let the tips of his fingers trail up Riku's chest. Up to his cravat. "Your majesty."

He was speechless again. The room was suddenly stuffy and it was hard to breathe.

Sora tugged Riku's cravat from his waistcoat. He smirked.

And then he stepped around them. He looked back, still smirking, his blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. Like this was his palace.

Naminé rolled her eyes, nudging her weight against Riku, before she tugged him forward.

His mind was still stuck.

They walked Naminé back to her room. She was still holding half of the fruit she had taken, and she disappeared into her room with it, claiming it would serve as an "midnight snack, or a pre-breakfast breakfast."

Which brought a smile to Riku's face, so he let her get away with it.

And then it was just him, Sora, and his loose cravat hanging between them.

"Do you really think everything will be alright?" Sora asked. "I mean, it was the Spanish Navy who attacked us..."

Riku didn't want to say that it might already be too late. He couldn't bear to think of that himself.

"We've done all we can. For tonight," he said. “And if anything happens, we’ll be here.”

Sora nodded. His dark hair was hung like a shield in front of his eyes.

“Hey.” Riku’s hand hovered. “It’ll be okay.”

Sora took a breath, and looked up. As he did, Riku’s hand landed on his cheek, like a butterfly. He was smiling again – the kind of smile he put on to show he wasn’t worried. The ‘his ship ran on happy faces’ smile.

“Aye.” Sora leant into Riku’s touch. His eyes softened and he bit his lip for a moment, starting to smile. His fingers traced the gold lapels of Riku’s coat. “You know…jokes aside…you do look…”

“I look…?” Riku felt himself smiling. He could practically see the focus slip from Sora’s face – from the way he was staring at Riku’s mouth with half-lidded eyes.

Sora never finished his thought. He stepped closer, pushing himself onto his tip toes and pressing his mouth against Riku’s. His lips were soft and his breath was warm. But the movement behind his jaw was strong, and Riku found himself stumbling back against the door to his room.

He managed to take Sora’s face in his hands, managed to gather the strength to pull him away. Just enough to whisper, “we’ll be seen here.”

They were so used to not hiding. On the Highwind, it had only been them, and no one had cared on the Wayfinder. But here – even in France – it would earn them a prison visit, if not sentence.

Sora’s hand fumbled at Riku’s side, searching for the door handle.

“Let me in then, you goose.”

He did, and Sora was pushing against him so heavily that he stumbled through. He kicked the door shut behind them, just as Sora tugged on Riku’s cravat, pulling him back down and into an open mouthed kiss.

Riku’s heart was racing, his hands fumbled on Sora’s hips – his waist – his rear – trying to feel all of him at once. He barely felt himself thud back against the door. He could only think about the boy in front of him and how he wanted to be closer – closer.

Sora’s teeth found his bottom lip and Riku heard a groan from the back of his own throat.

“I was thinking…” Sora murmured.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” He slipped his hands inside Sora’s jacket, pulling out handfuls of his shirt so that he could get to that warm, bronze skin.

“You’ll like this idea.” Sora nudged Riku’s chin up with his nose, pressing his mouth against his neck. He still had a hand on the cravat, pulling it down just enough that Riku could feel the pressure. “Because I was thinking about backgammon.”

Riku wondered how many times Sora would be able to steal his breath in one evening.

“N – now?” His hands were on Sora’s back. Tracing across the pattern of scars.

“When’s the next time we’ll have a room to ourselves?” Sora replied. He ran his fingers down the front of Riku’s waistcoat, then along the line of his breeches. “Maybe not – not a whole game, unless…”

“We’ll just…” Riku ran a hand through Sora’s hair, trying to find his breath as Sora sucked at his neck in a way that made his heart gallop like a racehorse. “See…”

Sora pressed his leg in between Riku’s, lifted it just enough so that he felt heat flood all the way down to his chest. He gasped, raking his hands up Sora’s back.

He panted in Riku’s ear.

“Oh, aye – your majesty,” Sora whispered.

Riku’s heart stopped. The warmth spread even further.

And yet, he still had to have the last word.

He leant down, traced his tongue over the shell of Sora’s ear, and whispered, “captain.”

Sora sighed, leaning his whole weight against Riku. He pressed his leg higher. He pulled away, letting his fingers run over Riku’s hair to the ponytail at the back of his neck. Smirking, he tugged it lightly, and raised an eyebrow.

“Bed?” he asked.

Riku didn’t have the words. He nodded. Then tangled his hands into Sora’s, aiming to tug him over to the four poster. They didn’t get very far before their mouths were against each other’s again. It was more of a stumble, until they were falling onto the plush blankets in a tangle.

That was when he hesitated. When Sora was in his lap, popping open the integral buttons of Riku’s breeches, biting his lip, looking up with flushed cheeks. He stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Sora breathed.

“I…” He smoothed down the front of Sora’s waistcoat. “It’s…this is different…”

Sora tilted his head, like a puppy. “Different?”

“Before – before, it was always just-“ Riku wet his lip and shed his coat. “It was always just whatever boy was queer and wanted a quick game.”

“Ah…” Sora continued biting his lip.

“I just…” He brushed hair out of Sora’s eyes, still marvelling at how well he could see the freckles on his cheeks now that he was clean. “This isn’t that, is it? This isn’t…”

“Oh, dove.” Sora pressed his thumb against Riku’s lower lip. His expression as soft as warm butter on hot toast. “I’m not kissing you because you’re queer…well, that does help.” At Riku’s raised eyebrow, Sora gave a breathless chuckle. He pressed their foreheads together. “I’m kissing you because you are smart, and brave – you fight with a sword like a Prince from a fairy story and – blimey, you’re like nobody that I’ve ever known. You’re – you’re my best friend.”

Riku melted into Sora’s touch. He kissed Sora, because he couldn’t find the words – because there was a lump in his throat.

“And the fact you can barely swim is bloody adorable.”

Riku sighed, tightening his hand in Sora’s hair. “I was going to compliment you – but I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back before you’ve even said it.” Sora tightened his fists into Riku’s waistcoat.

“Already done.”

“Riiiiiku…” Sora buried his face against Riku’s neck. Pulled his shirt down to run an open mouth over his collarbones. He was clever with his tongue and his teeth and Riku’s heart was in his mouth in no time.

“Aye – aye.” He laughed, and leant back. Suddenly he felt light – felt tingly all over because Sora was right. Sora was right – this was different and that was brilliant. It was – this could be _it_. Maybe this is was _it_ felt like. And it was like walking in clouds. “Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day? Thou art more lovely-“

“No – your words.”

Riku paused. He hugged Sora to him. “I don’t have any words.”

“You do.”

And he had so much confidence in Riku. Why did he have so much confidence?

“You are…remarkable. When you smile – did you know your smile is crooked? – it’s like – it’s like there’s a sun inside of you. Because there is. I can see the sun in your eyes – those eyes that a bluer than the sky in midsummer – and I can see the sun when you’re with Donald and Goofy. You’re so _kind_ – so unbelievably kind to everyone and everything. And you’re passionate and – and I wish I could see the world through your eyes because it must be so vibrant and magical and –“

Sora kissed him.

And kissed him. Like there was no tomorrow.

It made Riku sure. Sure that this was it.

When Sora finally pulled away, he murmured –

“You’re such a little swot, aren’t you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I have not spoken French properly since secondary school so I cannot say that any of it is correct. (I did have to speak French for a production of Jane Eyre, which was fun.)  
> As always thank you so so much for all of the comments/kudos/bookmarks etc etc! I really do appreciate it and it's been what's helping me to continue writing and (nearly) finish this fic! (I'm aiming for 27 or 28 chapters)  
> Please do leave a comment with any thoughts or just to let me know you're still with us.   
> And I will see you next week! <3 xx


	21. The Guns

The Guns

Sora woke to find himself buried into Riku’s shirt. It smelt clean and he hadn’t smelt that clean cotton, perfumed smell off of Riku since the night they had met, and then it had disappeared quickly. He’d missed it.

They had both lost various clothes; Sora was missing his shirt – he had the vague memory of Riku tossing it to one side. Of it landing on a lamp.

Still, they’d both kept their breeches. And an exploratory foot told Sora that Riku had even kept his stockings too. He looked up with heavy eyelids to find the front of Riku’s shirt open, his cravat still loose around his neck. His pale collarbones were covered in tiny red marks.

Like butterflies – they were shaped almost like butterflies, and Sora couldn’t resist running his finger over them.

Riku’s arms tightened around him. His chin was resting in Sora’s hair, and he felt him sigh. It felt safe, like this. Like he was cocooned from all of the problems around them – the danger coming from all sides. As long as he was completely surrounded by Riku, he’d be protected from it all.

Sora didn’t remember ever feeling safe like this. He’d never slept in a _room_ like this, let alone woken up in the arms of someone that made his heart race through every part of his body.

“Good morning, handsome,” Riku murmured above him.

He’d thought that he was still asleep and started slightly, at being caught staring. And then the words sunk in and he felt his cheeks warm. He pulled away, so that he could look up at Riku. He was smiling, his eyes shining in the morning light. They’d forgotten to pull the curtains, and the light was blinding.

“H – handsome?” he repeated. His lips still felt numb.

Riku’s smile widened. He brushed hair out of Sora’s eyes. Brushed it back gently.

“Did you not know?” His voice was soft.

Sora’s cheeks felt even warmer. His heart fluttered, like the butterflies on Riku’s collarbone. No – no one had called him that, but he liked it.

And yet, there was the slight tease in Riku’s voice that made him focus. Focus on feigning confidence.

“W-well, of course I did,” he stammered. “But - handsome?”

“Handsome.” Riku’s thumbs traced Sora’s collarbones, and he felt his eyes half-close. Despite the daylight, he was ready to fall straight back asleep.

“Look who’s talking,” he said, burying his fists in Riku’s shirt. He heard a breathy chuckle above him. He was pulled even closer into Riku. Their legs were tangled – Sora had two of his legs entwined around one of Riku’s like he was a monkey. He hummed. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” Riku replied. “I was…thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Goose.” Riku squeezed him. Then took a breath that Sora felt his own body move alongside. “I was thinking about our next steps. What to do if Terra and Aqua don’t…don’t come back. How long do we wait to see if these people move against us?”

That was Riku. He was the one who thought about things.

Sora was the one who would sail into a storm.

“We’re safe,” he mumbled. “We’re safe here.”

For as long as Lady Cinderella wanted them here, they would eat well and sleep well and have a whole Palace. It was the kind of life Riku deserved.

“We have to find Kairi,” Riku said.

Right. Kairi.

No – he cared about Kairi. Wanted Kairi back more than anything. Wanted her to be safe, wanted everything to go back to normal –

But back to normal meant no Riku.

But Riku meant danger. Riku meant that they had another reason to be sent to the gallows. Riku meant hiding and running and –

He looked up into sleepy blue-green eyes and knew that all of it would be worth it.

*

They received word that afternoon that Aqua and Terra were being held at the docks, and at the request of the Prince they would be released.

The Prince rode out that afternoon, at Lady Cinderella’s insistence. Riku insisted that Naminé go with him – he thought that the ocean air might revitalise her, because he was worried, very worried, about how pale and withdrawn she looked.

Riku taught Sora to play chess, but they were both distracted. There was an uneasiness in the air – a sense that something was coming. It was like knowing there was a party in the evening, and being unable to focus on anything else all day.

So he read, and Sora listened to pretty words drip off of Riku’s tongue. Sat closer and closer to him on a plush chaise lounge until he had his hand on Riku’s thigh, his thumb twitched just enough to send electric through Riku’s whole body.

Which was even more distracting.

They lunched with Lady Cinderella, in the same room as they did the previous night. She kept glancing out of the window, even though the group weren’t due home until the evening, at the earliest.

It was quite a view. They had a view of the sprawling gardens from here. It reminded Riku of the see, stretching on in an impossibly bright colour. But this was punctuated with dark greens or pink and red flowers – decorating the emerald greens like seafoam. Even the clouds in the sky seemed perfectly formed to the _idea_ of clouds, as though someone had sat and painted them. There was a breeze coming through the window, but it wasn’t particularly cold. In fact, it was the perfect temperature of sun outside.

Cinderella twined a fork between her fingers, and when she noticed Riku staring, she gave a pretty laugh.

“I was so shocked the first time I sat down at a table like this. All this cutlery.” She gestured to it all before her.

“Where did you live before?” Riku asked. They were speaking French, and Sora watched them with a blank expression. His foot nudged Riku’s under the table. Found its way up his ankle.

He ignored it.

“Ah, a small town,” Cinderella sighed, turning to the window again. “My father’s old estate. But he passed away, and…it was a lot of work, to take care of it.”

“You didn’t have any help?”

She looked at him then, her bright blue eyes sparkling with something. As though he had told an inside joke.

“It was what I loved,” she replied, simply.

There was a knock at the door. And all three of them sprung up.

Lady Cinderella recovered, tucking an imaginary stray hair behind her ear, and saying, “yes?”

A footman came in. He looked nervous, and that made Riku look to Sora. He was frowning, his hand hovering reaching for the largest knife on the table.

“A man to see you, _madame_.” The man gave a courtly bow. “He says he knows the woman you seek.”

Now Riku was frowning – reaching for a knife too.

Cinderella noticed, she caught his eye from across the table, held up a white-gloved finger, almost imperceptibly. Wait.

“We shall accommodate him,” she replied.

“ _Madame_.” The man took a step into the room. Glanced around. “He does not look of a good sort. Not like –” He glanced at Sora and Riku, fumbling for the right word. “There’s a darkness, about him.”

Cinderella’s smile was still sweet, her finger still raised to Riku.

“Then station a guard at the door, _monsieur._ ”

Another courtly bow, and then the man was gone.

Riku took the room in, again. There were eight chairs around the table, and he was seated with his back to the window. Both his and Lady Cinderella’s chairs had been set at an angle, so that they could look out at the grounds. Sora had sat opposite Riku, was on the opposite side of the oak table.

The door the man had come through was in front of Sora. Double doors. With huge paintings of nobility either side. There were two more doors, on either side of the room, but they led through to a maze of rooms and Riku was sure he would get lost. Either side of each one was a spindly table with a delicate, ornately painted vase.

There were footsteps in the hallway, and he was itching to move. To get ready for a fight.

Cinderella caught his eye again. She made a calming gesture with her hand.

Riku wanted to trust her.

But the door was opening again.

And for a moment, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him. Was sure that the person walking in couldn’t possibly be real. Because this was a man with thick, dark curls and a thin moustache.

It was a man with a hook for a hand.

Sora made a sound in the back of his throat, as though he had been punched, and that was proof enough that Riku wasn’t hallucinating. He moved around to the other side of the table, just as Sora snapped, “Hook!”

Everyone seemed to move at once. It took Riku’s mind a moment to catch up with it all.

Sora had pointed his dinner knife at the man, his eyes flashing.

The man had pulled a pistol from his pocket, cocked back the hammer, and pointed it at Lady Cinderella’s chest.

And a second man – a man Riku hadn’t noticed at first – was pointing a pistol right at him.

“Make a move, boy, and I’ll shoot the Lady.” Hook’s – for that is who it must have been – was a low, pirate drawl.

There was a moment of silence. Riku stared at the other man – a shorter, much rounder man with white tufty hair and half-moon spectacles. By any account, he should have been someone’s kind, fisherman grandfather, not a pirate.

Sora lowed the knife. But he didn’t drop it.

“N-now, Mister Riku, if you would take a seat,” the shorter man said.

Riku looked at Hook first, who jutted his chin in a nod, and tightened his grip on the pistol.

He couldn’t see a way out of this. He pulled a chair from the table, twisted it round, and took a seat. He was eye-level with the gun barrel now. The dark hole seemed endless, but his reason told him it wasn’t. His reason told him that the hole wasn’t very deep at all, and all it would take was a finger on the trigger for it to light up.

“What are you doing here, Hook?” Sora demanded. His shoulders were trembled.

“What is ze meaning of zis?” Lady Cinderella did not sound scared. If anything, she sounded just as angry.

“Oh, apologies, my lady.” Hook swept a one armed bow with his hooked hand. The gun didn’t twitch. “But I doubted that you would come with us willingly.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Sora’s jaw was clenched.

“And how are you going to stop me, boy?” Hook turned dark eyes onto Sora. He gestured with the gun. “You make one move and I’ll shoot the lady.”

“No, you won’t.” A smile played at the corner of Sora’s mouth. For a moment, Riku thought he had gone completely mad. But then Sora continued, “we both know you need to take her with you. I’m sure your mistress will be very angry if you killed Lady Cinderella.”

He was right. She was one of the women that the cult were seeking after all. And that meant they needed to keep her alive. Even if it was only for now.

Hook didn’t appear fazed. With a jerk of his head, he said, “shoot the boy then, Smee.”

He was frozen. Waiting to see a spark and hear a bang.

“No.” Sora stepped towards Riku, his eyes wide. It cut through his panic, and he was half-rising out of the chair to meet him –

When Hook’s gun was pointed at Sora.

He sat back down, a lump in his throat. His chest was aching with panic. All of his limbs felt electrically charged, but he was stuck. Riku looked at Sora, and saw the same raw fear there. They had been in trouble before, but never this badly. In every other bad situation, there had been a glimpse of the way out. Now, if either of them moved, the other would die. It would be impossible to move fast enough before the gunshot.

“Now.” There was a terrible smile on Hook’s face. He was enjoying this, every second of seeing them cornered like mice. “I don’t think the lady wants to see either of you pretty boys shot, so I think she _will_ be coming over here now.”

Lady Cinderella looked at the two of them. Riku could already see the resignation from the set of her mouth. But her bright eyes flashed with something.

She spoke in French, “death is irreversible, and I will not have a hand in yours.”

“What did she say?” Hook demanded, as Lady Cinderella held her skirts and crossed the room. She held her chin up high, ever graceful.

It gave him the courage to tilt his on head up. To glare at Hook, and reply, “she said that you’re the worst pirate she’s ever seen.”

Sora gave a snort of laughter, and Riku grinned at him. It was incredible, how just seeing that smile made him forget about the fear crawling through every inch of his body.

“Tie the lady’s hands, Smee,” Hook ordered.

“B – but Captain –” He gestured a shaky pistol at Riku.

“He knows if he moves from that chair, I’ll blow the brains off his pet pirate out.”

Riku’s stomach rolled over, like a dying dog. There was a scream in the back of his throat, or a sob, that he was desperately trying to keep down. Instead, he watched Sora’s tanned fists clench until his knuckles were almost white. Watched the shadow in his jaw move as he set his teeth.

Smee clumsily tied Lady Cinderella’s hands. There was an expression of pity in her eyes as she watched him.

“The boy too.” Hook’s eyes were half-lidded, as though this was all too easy.

“No.” Sora looked frantically between him and the pirates. “Not Riku.”

That terrible smile was back. “His mother is dying to be reunited.”

“A – and there’s a good reward for his return too!” Smee was red in the face.

Riku looked to Sora. They were both thinking the same thing. Riku got ready to leap out of the chair, just as Hook said, “of course, her ladyship would understand if there was an unfortunate…accident in retrieving you.”

The small glimmer of hope fell to the floor between them, like a shot bird.

Smee was approaching, with more rope.

And Hook’s gun had wavered. After all, he had them cornered.

If only Riku didn’t care so much. Then he’d have the courage to take a risk. His mind still couldn’t work – was too stuck in a feral panic for him to think about anything he could possibly do to –

Sora was moving. Darting across the room to Riku, low to the floor, until he crashed into the chair that he was sat on, sending them both sprawling. He kicked at the chair instinctively, so that it provided them some semblance of cover.

“Avast! Or I’ll shoot!” Hook yelled.

He was raising the gun again, Riku could see it out of the corner of his eye. They had to think fast, but there was only one thing running through his mind. He had to say it. Now. There might not be another chance and he absolutely had to say those words, and mean them, for the first time in his life.

Riku grabbed Sora’s shoulders.

“I love you.”

Sora had opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He stared at Riku, his cheeks now flushed with colour, his mouth a perfect ‘oh.’

For a moment, the universe stopped.

Then everything happened at once. Hook kicked the chair away. The barrel of his gun was against Sora’s head.

Riku felt Smee binding his hands tightly with rope, but his eyes were on Sora. Watching as he was coerced into a seat. As he was tied there too, his fists still clenched.

Smee pulled Riku up by the elbow, murmuring to go gently. Started to lead him from the room.

Hope was dead on the floor. Riku was not in charge of his movements whilst it was.

They started out – started to leave Sora – bound and alone on a chair.

But then he called after Riku, his voice cracked.

“I’ve been reading.”

Riku turned back.

“What the blast is it now?” Hook had hold of Cinderella in his hooked arm. He jerked her as he stopped.

Sora stared at Riku – those blue eyes that had always been able to see through him – right from the moment they saw each other from across a crowded tavern. Those eyes that held both the sea and sky at once in them.

“Speak of one that loved not too wisely, but too well.”

Riku’s heart was stabbed through.

And he knew it would not mend.

*

Sora had clenched his fists as tightly as he could whilst he had been tied. So tightly that there was blood underneath his nails and his palms stung. It made him hiss and flex his fingers.

It meant that the ropes had the tiniest bit of give to them.

For the last ten minutes, he had clenched and twisted his wrists, working on wringing every millimetre that he could from the ropes. He gritted his teeth, leaning back to try and get a better angle.

The chair wobbled – then toppled backwards.

His stomach felt the lurching whoosh a moment before his head crashed against the floor. A painful throb echoed through him and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from seeing stars.

Still, Sora worked his wrists.

Another couple of minutes, and he had worked his left hand free.

It was easy from there, to tug at the knots on his other wrist, then to work on the ties on his ankles.

And then he was off of the floor and across the room. His breath was fire in his lungs – he felt like fire – unstoppable in his pursuit.

There were Musketeers in the hallway, and they stopped him with a hand to his chest. They were talking rapidly in French – demanding something rapidly in French, but he couldn’t understand. He heard the name Cinderella, but he could only shake his head.

They were getting angry now, and he was trying to explain, but none of them spoke English. None of them understood.

So he pushed past them. Broke into a sprint when they told him to _“arrete! Arrete!”_

A servant was coming out of a stairway – he pushed passed her and barrelled down them. There was a thud as she dropped the pile of linen she had been carrying.

Maybe the Musketeers had enough manners to help her.

Sora didn’t think so. There were still yells behind him.

He ran through the nearest door, crossing the room – to the stifled shrieks of the gowned ladies within – threw the window open, and leapt out. The breeze hit him like a slap to the face. It was cold in France, even when the sun was out.

There was a certain pleasure that came through him as he ran across the grounds, trampling delicate flowers and tearing through bushes. Branches snagged on his expensive clothes and snapped off. No doubt there would be a clear trail behind him.

But he knew where he was headed. He’d spotted the stables from the window at dinner the night before.

There. The mare that had carried him and Riku.

She rolled her eyes and snorted at Sora’s sudden return – at the wild look in his eyes and the blood on his hands. His wrists were bleeding.

He didn’t have time to think about that.

With shaking hands, he hushed the mare, stroking her muzzle until she tapped her hooves against the floor, and breathed easier. Then he opened the stable door and led her out.

The yelling was back. It had been easy enough for the Musketeers to find him again.

Sora swung himself up and onto the mare, almost toppling off her other side in his eagerness. He kicked at her flank, and immediately she started forward. Fast – faster than Riku had ever taken her.

She barrelled through the grounds, and it was all Sora could do to cling onto the reigns.

The mare tore through the gardens, as though she could sense his urgency, her hooves kicking up dust as she ran.

Sora pressed his knees as tightly into her as he could, leaning over to avoid any low-hanging branches –

Or any possible gunshots from behind.

Eventually, they were out of the Palace of Versailles and tearing through the little village attached to it.

When he couldn’t hear the yelling any longer – when he was out of the town and onto the main, paved road, Sora pulled at the mare’s mane to get her to stop. She did, breathing heavily and tossing her head.

“Easy, girl,” Sora murmured.

And then realised that he had no idea where he was going. There was no clue on the paving stones below as to where Hook had taken Riku and Lady Cinderella.

He should go back. Even if he hid outside the Palace walls, he could explain to the Prince when he returned what had happened. He would have Terra and Aqua. They would know what to do. They would know where to go.

Sora shook his head. No, he couldn’t wait. He had to follow Riku _now_. Whilst the trail was still fresh.

Kairi’s face appeared in his mind. Smiling as she offered him half of a coconut.

No. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t let it happen again.

Not whilst he could do something about it.

There was no waiting for Terra and Aqua.

He glanced around him, for any sign – any clue – and only saw a crossroad sign.

A crossroad sign that said ‘Paris.’ He was still hazy on letters – but he was fairly certain. The top sign read Paris.

Riku’s voice was in his mind now, telling him about just why Governor Frollo had been so displeased to see him. Because Riku had visited Paris with his mother.

That must be it. Had to be it.

If it wasn’t, then he’d be throwing everything away. Would be throwing the possibility of seeing Riku again away forever.

But this time he was going to save the person he loved.

*

The ropes pressed themselves dully against Riku’s skin, but he couldn’t feel any pain. He couldn’t feel anything at all. He felt hollow.

They had left the palace, Hook and Smee pointing guns at any of the musketeers who challenged them. Three or four of them had gotten shot, before Lady Cinderella had held a hand up for them to fall back, her face white.

A carriage had been waiting outside. They’d been travelling along the roads in it, the curtains inside drawn. Hook sat up front with the driver, and every so often Riku could hear him laughing to the driver.

Smee was sat across from them. Wringing his hands and twitching the curtains every other moment. There was a definite reluctance about him – Riku got the sense the he didn’t have the stomach for this.

He leant forward. His shoulders ached.

“Where are we headed?” He didn’t know if it mattered.

“I – I can’t tell you that, Mister Riku.” Smee rubbed his hands together.

“Why? In case we don’t like the answer?” Riku raised an eyebrow.

Cinderella’s lips twitched upwards next to him. She spoke in French, “Paris. We turned left from Versailles, and that’s the Paris road.”

Smee was watching them, but he clearly couldn’t understand a word.

Paris. Riku thought back to his last visit, and tried to remember where his mother had swanned off to every day. He thought of Governor Frollo, and where he used to serve. Remembered sitting on a shop step with Esmerelda, and how she told him about a bell ringer in a soft voice, staring at her brown hands in her lap. Her hair had caught the sun, and her bright green eyes were sad.

It all pointed to one place.

“Notre Dame,” he said. “They must have a headquarters there.”

Smee may not have spoken French, but his eyes widened as he recognised the words ‘Notre Dame.’ That confirmed Riku’s suspicion. But what could he do with that? How could he tell anyone? Who would he even be able to tell?

The sun was starting to set, and every bit of light they lost in the carriage hollowed him out some more.

But Cinderella was calm. She had stayed calm throughout all of this, even if her eyes had glittered with tears at seeing the fallen men, she had not cried. Her cheeks hadn’t even flushed with anger or tears. She had simply watched, and at this new knowledge, she nodded, and crossed herself with her tied hands.

Riku’s heart hadn’t stopped racing, and he found himself saying, “you’re not scared.”

She looked at him, and her eyes softened. It was the kind of look that brought a warmth to his battered body. It was the kind of look a mother, or an older sister would have – it was comforting.

“Do you think no one will look for us?” she asked. “Do you think my prince, or yours, will not be following?”

“My prince?” Riku echoed.

Cinderella smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Am I wrong?”

“I suppose not.” It still sent heat to his face. Now that she said it, he realised he’d been foolish. Of course Sora wouldn’t sit and wait. Of course he would be coming after them – probably already. Riku wondered if he’d bothered to grab a horse, or if he was running down the road by himself. Would he had stopped to wait for Terra and Aqua to get back?

Help would be on its way.

“But…” He bit his lip. Not wanting to admit that despite everything – despite all of the battles he had faced before this – he was still scared. Scared of seeing his mother. Scared of Sora being hurt.

“My step-mother,” Cinderella paused. “Put me in charge of the chores. I did everything on my father’s estate and every day I felt worn down, like a rock trapped in the waves. But I knew that it would not be like that forever. As long as I could keep waiting, then I had the strength to continue. Sometimes the only thing you can do is wait.”

Riku nodded. A part of him understood. That had been Harrow – the goal had been to get through the day, until he could take action on his plan. And as soon as he had, everything had changed. Everything had gotten a lot better.

“Aqua cared. And she helped me get to the Prince,” Cinderella continued. She gave him that comforting smile again, and he was sure that some of the hollowness was starting to fill back up. “As long as there is someone who cares, you can make it through anything.”

The words sounded right. Sounded like something a poet would say, and Riku had always thought it over-romantic nonsense – that no one really thought like that.

But that had been before Sora. Now he could believe it, especially when someone like Cinderella said it.

So he would wait.

Hope wasn’t lost yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Othello is my favourite Shakespeare play, so I had to reference it.  
> I know that I've left you on a lot of cliffhangers with this fic and I'm really sorry. I wrote this so fast that I would hit the 4000/5000 word mark and just open a new document without thinking. (But it does mean that everyone comes back lmao)  
> That being said, I'm writing the last chapter this week so I might update on a Sunday as well? But I also know from experience that updates twice a week make me fall behind so quick in reading fics so I'm also not sure...I'll let you know.  
> Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. As always, thanks so so much for all of the comments/kudos etc etc - please do leave any thoughts below because I am eager to know what you think.  
> Thanks so much <3 xx


	22. The City

Paris was loud.

It was loud and crowded, and the smell of horse dung was heavy in the air.

Sora was starting to realise that he didn’t really know what cities were like. He had been in port cities, of course, but only so far as the nearest pub. It was never like this – there was never this suffocation in the air. He felt trapped – already felt grimy from _city_.

It didn’t help that he had no idea if this was right. There was no proof that Riku had been taken here.

But Sora had been thinking. Whilst he had been clinging onto the horse’s mane desperately, he’d been wracking his brain for any more clues. Riku had only ever mentioned Paris, but that didn’t mean it was the only place his mother visited. She seemed to know everyone – this group may have strongholds in every city in Europe. They may not have even taken the Paris road.

Then he’d remembered what Riku had said. About the gypsy girl he had saved.

Even if he couldn’t track Hook down, he might be able to find her. Then it might not be a wasted journey. Maybe she would know more about the cult Governor Frollo was in – where they operated.

And yet, it was hard to concentrate when all he could think about was the look of absolute fear on Riku’s face the last time he had come face to face with his mother. What was happening to him now?

Sora leant back on the horse, and pushed his hair out of his face. For once, it wasn’t covered in sweat or rain. It didn’t feel right, not to be boiling hot.

There was a puppet show. He heard children laughing and pulled the horse to a stop. She snorted and tossed her head – rearing so that Sora was sure she was trying to throw him off.

It was a small stand, in the middle of a crowded square. A man stood behind it, with a smaller version of him as the puppet, with the same purple and yellow costume and jester hat. He spoke rapidly in French, using a higher pitched voice whenever the puppet jiggled up and down.

Suddenly, all of the children turned to him and laughed.

Sora blinked. He felt himself growing hot, and knew that he must have looked strange – still wearing the fine clothes, that were now covered in grime and torn.

“Ahhh.” The puppet man grinned at him, his eyes glittering behind a purple mask. “ _Parlez-vous Francais, monsieur?”_

Again, he blinked. Then Sora slowly shook his head.

The children giggled again, covering their mouths.

But there was something about the man’s tanned skin, his dark hair – the slight roll of his ‘r’s even when using French, that made Sora take a chance.

“ _Hables Espanyol, senior?”_ he asked.

It was the puppet man’s turn to look shocked. He nodded. “ _Si._ ”

The children were looking between the two, their eyes wide with curiosity.

Sora pulled his leg up and over the horse, praying that he wouldn’t embarrass himself as he dismounted.

His ankle tinged painfully, but he ignored it. He left the mare where it was, to the joy of the children. She seemed to appreciate the attention, lowering her head to let the children stroke her mane.

Meanwhile, Sora stepped up to the puppet stand.

“Has a carriage passed through here?” Sora asked, in Spanish.

“Young sir.” The puppet man had a crooked smile on his face. “Many, many carriages pass through London every hour.”

“This one carried a Lady – an important lady, but it would have been driven by a pirate. A man with a red coat…” Sora lost his momentum, as the man scowled at him. “…And a hook for a hand.”

“I see.” The man was packing up his puppets. He looked up at Sora, any friendliness gone. “And you hunt this pirate because he operates outside the good king’s law?”

Sora frowned too. It felt as though he’d been slapped in the face, but he couldn’t figure out why.

“N – no,” he said. “Laws mean nothing to me – I’m a pirate.”

“Ah, revenge for stealing your love.” The man seemed just as unimpressed. He flicked a hand, as though Sora was dismissed, as he stepped out from around the puppet stall.

“Yes – well, no, I –“ Sora stepped to the side, blocked the man’s path. He lowered his voice. “There was a boy in that carriage too –he’s my – my second in command.”

Sora stressed the words, desperate to make his meaning clear.

The man raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, shifting his weight backwards. When he didn’t say anything, Sora continued, his words in a rush.

“The man they are with – he’s part of a group, a cult, that me and my – friend – were trying to track down. I don’t know what they’ll do to the lady, but it won’t be good. And he…they’ll hang him for being a pirate and for being –”

“I understand.” The puppet man held up a hand. He wore gold earrings and they swung slightly, catching the watery sunlight.

“I have to find them,” Sora continued. “My friend, he visited Paris – helped a girl who danced on the street – maybe you know her?”

“Lots of gypsies dance in the street.” The man flicked his hand again, and tried to step to the side.

Sora followed him.

The man sighed, jutting out his jaw and looking up with barely concealed patience.

“This girl got in trouble at Notre Dame,” Sora said. “With Governor Frollo. He’s a part of all of this as well…” Sora tried to look small. Small and sad and scared. “please…I’ve lost two friends to them…I have to save them.”

The man took a long breath, looking down at Sora and examining him. He ran a hand over his short, dark beard.

“I know the girl,” he said, then stepped around Sora, moving so quickly that he couldn’t stop him. “Follow, senior.”

Sora did. He pushed through the crowd until he got to his horse. Gently, he took her mane again, and pulled her out of the children’s grasp. It helped to clear the way through the city.

It was even louder down here – people yelling from all sides, pushing their wares at him, homeless people begging for change and tugging at clothes, children screaming and laughing. The smell was even worse.

The puppet man kept pushing through the crowd, down streets and streets that looked exactly the same, full of the same kind of people, until he came to a stop at a churchyard. It was abandoned, the metal gate hung off of its ridges, and the grass was overgrown, almost grey. Lichen spread like a disease over the old stones, obscuring the names completely.

Sora stepped after the man, feeling a tingle up his spine. Graveyards were a thing he had little experience with. They were a thing that existed in ghost stories told by sailors late at night. They were a bad kind of place.

“Now, senior.” The Puppet man stopped and turned. “I can take you no further like that.”

“What?” Sora found his hand straying to his hip, but there was no sword there.

“The path to the Court of Miracles cannot be known by just anyone who walks in off the street.”

“But, you –”

“The choice is yours, senior.” The man held out his palms. “I either blindfold you, or knock you out.”

For the second time, Sora felt as though he’d been punched in the face. He stumbled over the words as he played them back to himself. Not that there was a choice. Time was running short, and this was his only lead.

“May I have your name first?” was the only question he needed to ask. He put a hand over his chest. “I’m Sora.”

The puppet man looked him over again, then pulled out a sheath of fabric from his pocket.

“Clopin.”

Sora nodded.

Then let the man step closer, and tie the blindfold around his eyes.

He had already lost one person he loved.

He wouldn’t lose anyone else.

No matter what it took.

*

Paris was beautiful.

It was just as beautiful as Riku remembered – the towering, gothic buildings, the colourful people, the freshly baked bread on the air.

And yet, this wasn’t how he had imagined returning. He had imagined returning with Sora, of wandering down the streets with the backs of their hands touching, of spending the nights in pubs, playing billiards and cards and then returning to their room and –

The thoughts hurt.

Notre Dame was just like he remembered. It stood gravely in front of a huge square, gargoyles clutching at the rafters and staring greedily down. He remembered stepping inside. Of feeling the light filtering through the stained glass and creating patterns of rose and violet on his skin. The feeling that he was in an important place – a place of peace.

Nothing about this was peaceful.

The carriage had stopped around the back, and Riku had been led by Smee up a winding, narrow staircase. The steps were worn, and with every step Riku imagined himself falling back down every one and breaking his neck. His hands were still bound, but even if they weren’t, there was no bannister to hold onto.

Cinderella had gone a different way. With Hook.

At the top of the stairs, had been a room.

In the room had stood his mother.

She had hugged him.

“Your ship was attacked.” Riku hadn’t moved. His voice stayed even.

“We managed to patch enough holes up to wait for help.” His mother pulled away. Smiled with thin lips, and brushed some of his hair out of his face. “And of course, help came.”

Riku had been staring straight ahead. At the plain stone walls in the room. He let his eyes slide over to her pale face. She was watching him with those narrowed eyes. There was a spark in the darkness of them. The kind of look a leopard had when it caught a sheep.

“The ocean is big,” he said. “How did help find you?”

His mother smiled. She pushed his hair back again, her nail trailing down the side of his face.

“Your hair is much too long to be fashionable, my dear.”

Her arm snaked around him, pressing him forward and down on the spindly cot that sat in the corner.

Riku closed his eyes.

She had remained standing. A hand on his shoulder.

Sora was out there. Sora was coming.

“What do you want with me?”

There was a pause. Her nails pressed against his shoulder.

“An heir.” Her voice was soft. “I still need an heir, darling.”

That was surprising. It made him look up, frowning slightly.

Finally, his mother sat, her dark dress pooling around her, as though the shadows in the room had taken on a life of their own. She kept brushing the bangs away from his eyes, and he let her.

Not that he could stop her. His hands were still bound, his wrists throbbing against the ropes.

“Nothing that you’ve done cannot be fixed,” she said. It confused him – these gentle touches. There was a part of him that had actually missed it – missed being treated like a small child. “Nobody needs to know that you were with pirates.” And yet, he was repulsed by her. “Of course, no school in England will have you, but that won’t be a problem.”

“School.” Riku hadn’t even thought about going to school again. He hadn’t really given any thought to the future. Just like Sora, he supposed.

“Governor Frollo has offered to tutor you.” There was a smirk at the corner of his mother’s mouth. “He’s even agreed to help with your…tendencies. Isn’t that kind of him, considering everything that those pirates did to him.”

A shiver ran down Riku’s spine. His tendencies – his queerness. He knew how men like Frollo helped with that – it was how everyone else dealt with hit. Beating it out of the accused party.

He remembered a boy. Not the first one – this boy had been quiet – two years above Riku. His skin had been tanned – not as tanned as Sora’s, but tanned enough to show that that he was not legitimate. Riku remembered the boy’s arms around him, his voice whispering in his ear, “the original texts say ‘man shall not lie with boy.’ Not ‘boy shall not lie with boy.’”

And yet, he’d still denied having anything to do with Riku, when the rumours had started to spread.

Riku had always feared his mother – his teachers – more than he feared God. But he had heard all the excuses. Personally, he had liked Aqua’s best. That one hadn’t felt like an excuse; it was an explanation. If there was a God, he wouldn’t condemn his creations.

"Where's the girl, Riku?" His mother's nails traced over his hands.

Riku's fists clenched, sending a sharp jab of pain through his arms. He still couldn't lie to her, the thought made his jaw tremble.

But that didn't mean that he would tell the truth, "she went back to the sea. Where's Kairi?"

"Who?" Her pale face looked almost concerned.

Or almost nervous.

"We're looking for a girl. Her name is Kairi. She left from Havanna with Captain Hook. Where is she?"

“Perhaps you should ask the Captain.” His mother stood, her face turned away from his. “I’m not his keeper. What makes you think I would have anything to do with that girl?”

“Because Hook took Lady Cinderella too. And he has a pocket watch like yours. All of you have the same – everyone in this organisation of yours.” He stood, because she still wasn’t looking at him and that _meant_ something. It meant that he was on the right track and for the first time ever, he had power over her. He spoke without thinking, throwing half-formed theories into the air to provoke her into telling him if he was right. “Those pocket watches form a map, don’t they? That’s how you managed to find us off Casablanca, and in the Caribbean. And yesterday, in Paris. Their all connected. And now you’re using them to find these – girls.”

For a moment, his mother didn’t move. He remained, staring at the back of her head, her dark hair shiny in the light from the small, circular window. Then she turned, the sun leeching the colour of her skin and catching her dark eyes.

There was a chill in Riku’s stomach as she raised her hand. Her fingertips brushed his cheek first, before she cupped his face. He closed his eyes and hoped that she didn’t see the shudder that had gone through him.

“Haven’t you been a busy boy?” It sounded like she was purring.

Riku opened his eyes. “Are you killing them?”

“No.” She was looking at him differently now. As though he was something of interest – a taxidermy bug under a magnifying glass.

“Then what –”

“You’ve had a very tiring time, dear.” Her hand fell from his cheek to his shoulder. Pushed him back onto the cot. Then her nails worked at the ropes on his hands. As soon as it slackened, his arms flooded with relief. “I think it’s best you have a rest.”

“And when I wake up this will all seem like a bad dream?” he asked. The words had come to him suddenly – the same that had been purred when he was lying in bed, after having fallen down the stairs. After every time he was sore and hurting.

His mother’s lips quirked upwards. Ever so slightly.

“Smee will bring you anything you need.” She had the coil of rope in one hand. The brown strands had been dyed rust-red in places and the sight made his stomach squirm. But he didn’t look down at the damage – not yet – not until she was out of the room.

He stayed still, trying not to flinch, as she brushed his hair one more time, fingers trailing down to his chin, and then away.

Her shoes clicked on the stone as she crossed the room. As soon as she pulled the old wooden door closed behind her, he stood again. His legs ached at the effort – she had been right. He was exhausted.

There was the sound of a key in the lock. 

Riku pushed against the door, just in case. It juddered in the lock, but held fast. The door was old, with a good enough push, he might be able to send the whole thing over.

But his wrists were in agony at the effort. That was when he finally looked down. There was an angry red ring on each wrist, already starting to turn shades of brown and purple, like a watercolour painting. There were grazes as well, like carpet burn, where the rope had rubbed against him.

Now that he had looked, it _hurt_ more than before. It took the breath out of him for a moment.

He could ram into the door with his shoulder. It would most likely knock it down.

And yet he could still hear his mother on the steps.

And there was a shuffling outside that told him Smee was standing guard. He’d be easy enough to deal with, to push down the stairs. It would be a hard thing to survive.

Could Riku do that? Could he kill a man?

It was so hard to think. He really was bone tired, and every part of him seemed to sting.

He sat back on the cot in the corner and closed his eyes. Bide his time.

He needed to bide his time before he did anything else.

*

Sora’s rich clothes were thoroughly spoilt, more so than before.

The wade through the catacombs underneath the church meant that his boots had been submerged in muck for miles. It had splashed up his breeches too. His greatcoat has caught on rough brick walls and hooks sticking out of them. Somehow, he’d lost his cravat; he had no idea how.

And now he was unblindfolded, being led through a crowd of people – gypsies, Clopin had described them as –juggling, dancing, drinking. It wasn’t so different from being on a ship, save for the brightly coloured clothes.

“ _Le Court de Miracles_ ,” Clopin said over his shoulder, as Sora stared around in awe. There were houses set up, gardens – it was a miniature village completely hidden away from everything else.

A sanctuary.

“It’s fantastic.” Sora kept speaking in Spanish.

There was a tug on his breeches. He looked down to see a small child looking up at him, and knelt down to their eye level. She was a grubby girl – her tanned skin made darker with soot and mud – but she was smiling. Her front two teeth were missing.

She held out a chain of flowers to him, which he took with similarly dirty hands.

“Ah, _merci_.” It was the one word of French he knew, but he hoped that his smile would help convey more meaning, as he lifted the flowers, and put them over her own head.

The girl giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.

There was a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw that Clopin had raised an eyebrow at him. He straightened, and followed.

They came to a young woman, perched on a fence and stroking a small white goat with her bare foot. It made her golden anklets twinkle against each other.

“Esmeralda!” Clopin called, raising a hand to her. “A friend for you.”

She looked up, revealing bright green eyes. They stood out, like lights against her brown skin and thick, curling, raven-black hair. Her lips had been painted red, and they smirked at Sora.

A smirk, he couldn’t help but notice, was very similar to Riku’s.

“Where did this friend come from?” she asked, her Spanish lilting. She stood, and brushed a cobweb off of Sora’s greatcoat mockingly. “The King’s court?”

Normally, he would play along. Or tease her back. Say something witty, at least.

He wasn’t in the mood. He felt like a rope that had been pulled taught.

“Riku’s in trouble.”

Esmeralda blinked thick eyelashes. “Riku?”

Sora nodded.

“You know the boy?” Clopin crossed his arms, as though he was expecting Esmeralda to smile and shake her head – so that he could grab Sora by the scruff of the neck and throw him back out. “This one says he saved you.”

“He did,” Esmeralda replied. She tightened the fabric tied over her skirt, then took Sora’s hand, leading him over to the fence. “Is it his mother?”

“Yes – well – Governor Frollo too.” Because surely he couldn’t be far behind her. Sora hopped up onto the fence, letting the goat bite at his trailing jacket cuff. “And pirates – Barbossa and Hook, and – who knows who else is involved.”

Esmeralda held up her hands. “Slow down, slow down.”

Clopin had scowled at the mention of Frollo’s name. “If he’s involved, you have our daggers.”

“You say he has Riku.” Esmeralda sat on the fence too, looking at him seriously. “Do you know where he would have taken him?”

He hadn’t explained this very well, but he couldn’t stop and do so now.

“I – I guessed they took the road to Paris.” He saw them both frown, and look at each other, and continued with renewed enthusiasm. “Because of you – because he said that he ran into Governor Frollo her – that his mother worked with him, and I assumed they had a base here.”

“We cannot help you, senior, if you don’t even know if this boy is in the city.” Clopin still had his arms crossed.

“I don’t know where else to go.” Sora hated how his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “We were attacked by the navy when we made port, and we rode to Versailles to get help from a friend of a friend – but now they’ve taken Lady Cinderella, and Riku and my only hope was Paris but – I don’t know –“ He bit his lip, because there was a ball forming in the back of his throat and he couldn’t trust himself to continue. Instead, he took a deep breath.

He really was the worst pirate he’d ever heard of.

Esmerelda’s hand alighted on his shoulder, her touch was light as a butterfly. It brought as little comfort.

But then she spoke, in a careful, thoughtful voice. “Quasimodo hears when Governor Frollo has company around, including the Lady Maleficent.”

“I’m surprised the bell ringer can hear anything,” Clopin muttered.

“There’s always someone around with Governor Frollo, even if they’re nothing to do with the church.”

“That could be their base!” Sora leapt off of the fence. The goat bleated at him, and he stroked it behind its ears to calm it.

Esmeralda shook her head. “Notre Dame is not an easy place to sneak into. It’s guarded day and night now.”

“Then that must mean something is going on in there.” Sora was sure of it. He wasn’t sure how, but it was like Naminé said – some things people just _knew_.

“I said, it’s a difficult place to get into.” She wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was twisting a lock of hair and looking at the floor. “Any gypsy found there would be burnt at the stake. On the spot.”

“So?” Sora found himself raising his voice. “Riku and I could be hung on the spot for five different reasons now. He could have been hung just for helping you, couldn’t he? But he did it anyway, because it was the right thing to do. Because he’s honourable and noble and – he risked everything for you. And for me. How could we not help him, no matter what the cost? Doesn’t he deserve that? Shouldn’t you repay the favour he did for you – several times, if I recall?”

Esmeralda looked up at him, slowly. She stared at him in his torn, muck-stained clothes for a long moment.

Then she breathed out, and smiled. She shook her head again, biting her lip.

“You’re right of course.” She hopped down from the fence, landing in a swirl of her skirts. “That fear is what he wants.” She put a hand on his shoulder again – confidently this time, as if she meant it. “Thank you. I can see why Riku would choose to be with you.”

It was Sora’s turn to blink, stunned.

What she said was true – Riku had chosen to be with him. At every turn, he had chosen to stay at Sora’s side. He had done what every boy in his school couldn’t, and had kissed Sora without caring who saw. He’d decided to be brave.

But what did that have to do with Sora?

“What?” he asked.

Esmeralda laughed. Her bracelets and anklets – the gold on her skirt – all seemed to laugh with her.

“You’re a natural leader,” she said. “Do you not think so?”

Sora tilted his head, as though he was a puppy who didn’t understand her, but she simply laughed again.

“Of course, you stand out like a sore thumb in that,” she continued, pressing her fingers to her chin.

“Wait.” Sora looked over the two of them – around at everyone in the Court of Miracles. Something was forming in his brain, clicking together like the pieces of a puzzle. He found himself smiling back at Esmeralda. “That’s made me think of a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I finished writing the ending of this whole fic yesterday and. It gets good.  
> These next few chapters are really like the climax split into three/four so I'm thinking of putting another update in Monday? That way there's always a good few days for people to catch up without having to truck through 5,000 words daily. Would that be good?  
> Anyway I'm mostly just sad that the City of Bells was only in Dream Drop Distance because exploring Notre Dame and the surrounding area would be??? So good??? (Like Assassins Creed Unity but, you know, a workable game.)  
> As always thank you so so much for all of the support on this fic!! <3 It means the world to me and I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much! These next chapters have to be more plot than ship but it will be worth it, I promise.  
> EDIT: Also meant to say that I'm using the word gypsy because that's the word they use in the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie, and is how these people were referenced in the 18th century. (I.e 'the gypsy' in Jane Eyre.)


	23. The Truth

The Truth

Riku pounded at the door with his elbow – because his wrists still sung with pain – relentlessly, keeping up the call of “Smee! Smee! Smee! Smee!”

Until he almost fell through the open door. He caught himself, just in time by catching the doorframe, wincing at the strain on his hand. Yes, he wanted out of the room, but he did not want to go headfirst down the twisted stone staircase.

“Is there something I can do, Mister Riku?” the short man asked, blinking at Riku from behind his spectacles. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have been afraid of this man. He looked like the story book picture of a pirate with the demeanour of a grandfatherly teddy bear.

And yet he still had that pistol at his hip, and Riku had no doubt he could shoot it.

“I want to talk,” Riku said.

“I – I’m afraid I have orders not to,” Smee stuttered.

He pushed the door closed again before Riku could argue.

There wasn’t a moment before he began banging on the door again, calling out the man’s name insistently.

It took three rounds of this, before Smee finally relented, closing and locking the door behind him as he stepped into the tiny, round room. He slipped the key into his pocket. Riku was sure that he was strong enough to overpower him and take it, but he was sure that it wouldn’t be that simple. Sure that he would run into Hook at least, before he left.

And how would he ever be able to walk past his mother?

She wouldn’t even need a gun to stop him in his tracks.

Riku sat on the tiny bed, hoping that would make him look un-rebellious and helpless. Sora made acting look so easy. He slipped into different moods and guises as easily as changing clothes – easier, even. All he had to do was think about what Sora would do, if he were here.

“I’m just…” He bit his lip, looking at the floor because it was easier to act anxious then. “I’m just so worried…I don’t want to dance with Jack Ketch.”

Any ounce of hardness – and there was very little – in Smee’s demanour softened.

“Don’t you worry about that, the Lady has declared that you be kept out of all harm’s way.” Smee perched on the edge of the rickety side table, rubbing his glasses on the hem of his shirt. “And no mother would be cold enough to do that to her child.”

Riku let his hair hide his face so that Smee couldn’t see the disagreement there. If he had a brother who didn’t kiss boys, he knew he would have had an unfortunate accident a long time ago. Instead, he took a breath, and tried to look imploring.

“She said she’d hang Sora – he’s no older than I am.” Riku pretended to frown, as though he was just realising that – “She said she hated pirates, but you and H – Captain Hook work with her, don’t you?”

“Oh, well, that’s – that’s because,” Smee stammered. “They both have the same interests, you see?”

Riku continued looking at him, perplexed, until he continued.

“They are both hunting a myth – a legend, it’s an old sailor’s tale really.” Smee kept adjusting his glasses. “About the seven maidens.”

“Seven maidens?” Riku echoed.

“Spill the blood of seven pure maidens and the world will be yours,” Smee spoke as though he was reciting a nursery rhyme. Then shook his head. He stood, dusting down his clothes. “Of course it turns out that pure maidens are very hard to find – if there ever is such a thing. You’re a smart boy of course, you must know that curses and spells are all stuff and nonsense.”

Riku thought of a girl with blonde hair that could see into people’s memories. A girl they found curled up in a chest.

“Of course,” he said. “But my mother doesn’t think so.”

“No, well, they’re fools, the lot of them.” Smee turned his nose up, huffing and puffing. “In my day it was enough to go searching for buried treasure – often enough it was treasure that you’d buried yourself. Spent days decoding those old maps – and it was the getting there that was the most important part.”

Getting there. A journey. Treasure was something to run to.

Riku felt as though he’d been running all his life. And since leaving home, he’d been running all the more. He and Sora had been running from his mother and then the navy – anyone and everyone, it seemed.

He was tired of running from something, even though he was caught.

He was caught, and yet he knew someone was still going. Still headed towards him.

“But what does that mean?” Riku pressed. “The world will be yours?”

“Oh, eternal life or immense power, or something or other.”

Riku frowned, and thought hard about that.

“If it was eternal life, my mother wouldn’t need me,” he muttered. “And she wouldn’t want me to inherit any immense power.”

Smee began to shake his head adamantly. But then he stopped, and did a double take. He seemed to really examine Riku, for the first time since he had come into the room. All too late, Riku realised that he’d dropped the sad and nervous act. Suspicion grew on Smee’s face. No doubt he remembered Riku’s snipes – the way he had glared all the way to Paris and was realising that Riku wasn’t scared.

He changed tack, “I want to be a pirate. My mother disagrees.”

“I should think so. Smart boy like you wasting time chasing up so many debts that you turn on your friends.” Smee sighed, and sat down on the cot. He suddenly looked even smaller than he had been before, and older. As though he had aged five years with that realisation. “There’s no room left for pirates, with that East India Trading company snatching up all the waters. More pirates are hanging than sailing nowadays.”

Riku paused. He thought about what his mother had said, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to wear him back down into docility. That maybe in a year, he wouldn’t even be thinking of this. It would be a distant memory.

It wouldn’t be like it was before.

It would be worse – he could only imagine how lessons with Governor Frollo would happen. And without Sora and Namine beside him there was no way he could keep his word.

“It wouldn’t be eternal life,” he murmured. Not if Maleficent still needed an heir.

There was a bird outside, and it cawed to fill the silence. There was a pain in his chest. Only a few days ago, everything had been – the best it had ever been.

“Well.” Smee stood slowly, as though it was painful. Riku was struck once again with how much more of a kind grandfather than pirate the man looked. “Well, I shouldn’t have been telling you any of this.”

“No one needs to know,” Riku said. “No one needs to know if you tell me where Kairi is.”

“Kairi’s with the others, of course –” Smee stopped suddenly, and blinked at Riku as he realised what he’d said. “I said nothing – I – I wasn’t meant to tell you that.”

“Tell me what?” Riku stood, and smiled. He hoped it was the kind of smile that Sora would give – the kind that disarmed everyone around him. “This is our secret, isn’t it?” He put a hand on Smee’s shoulder, guiding him from the room. “It’s not like the maidens are being held here, and even if they were, well, you’ve got me well-guarded.”

“Yes,” Smee muttered, allowing himself to be pushed from the room. Riku was glancing at the window – wondering how easy the side of the church would be to scale. “Well-guarded….well.” He frowned suddenly, and looked at Riku, who turned to innocent thoughts. “Now, this is just to protect you. This whole thing is a nasty business, and your mother wants you to be safe. She’s always wanted you to be safe.”

“Yes.” Riku still couldn’t remember the accident that made his hair turn white very clearly, but he was starting to doubt the words he’d heard ever since – that she was just trying to help him. He couldn’t see things clearly – but he knew them know.

He looked over the small, unthreatening man, and had a guilty turn in his stomach. A plan had clicked into place, but it meant taking advantage of the pirate’s soft nature, of tricking him.

It had to be done.

Riku nodded. “Yes, she wants me to be safe. But not those seven girls she’s planning to murder.”

Smee’s eyes widened. “Oh no – no – the Captain says it’s just a little bit of blood from each girl – barely worth worrying about.”

“And I’m sure they’ve been kept nice and safe whilst they’ve been kidnapped,” Riku continued.

“Now, kidnapped is a – a strong word, Master –”

“There’s no way my mother would want them to have any cuts or bruises.” He turned up the cuffs of his sleeves, as casually as he could – to reveal the bruises and half-scabbed over cuts that sat there like gaudy bracelets.

Smee swallowed. “I can assure you the ladies are safe.”

“I’m sure they are.” Riku’s tone was as light as he could make it, as he took hold of the door, managing to say, “for today, at least,” before he closed it.

Riku kept his hand on the door. He stared at his splayed fingers – he’d caught a tan, he realised, throughout all of this – and took a breath. From the other side of the door, he could practically hear the cogs turning in Smee’s mind.

Whilst the pirate was no doubt struggling with his guilt, Riku crossed to the window and unlatched it.

The drop was far. Aside from trimming to make the church look pretty, there was nothing he would be able to climb down to. The call of the void trembled in his stomach the longer he looked – he could already imagine climbing out and falling in his minds eye.

Riku pulled the window back to and took a long breath.

When he looked out again, he looked up instead. Only a gargoyle that way, and once he was on top of that, there would be nowhere else to go to. His room had been chosen wisely; his mother had made sure that what had happened on her ship wouldn’t happen again.

He latched the window again, and sighed.

It was a wonderful view of the river – a glittering snake around the island Notre Dame sat on. Dozens of houses stretched on, huddled against the sky. The sun was setting, dappling the blue with purples, oranges and reds. And the air felt cold, after sailing in the Caribbean for so long, but he’d figured it was still Summer.

There was a knock from the door before too long.

Riku hid his grim smirk behind his hair as he heard it opening, wiping it off before he turned to see Smee standing there.

“The girls – you don’t think they would really hurt them, do you Mister Riku?”

“Mister Smee.” Riku was surprised at how soft his voice sounded – about how reluctant he suddenly was to tell him the truth. “When I was suspended from school, my mother had me beaten by her man so thoroughly I couldn’t walk for a week.”

The man did not seem surprised. Instead, he seemed resigned, as though he had realised this long ago and was just now letting go off his feeble hopes.

“I can’t bear it,” he said. “The thought of those kind young ladies…I never thought the Captain would…”

“You can stop it,” Riku said. He put a hand on Smee’s shoulder. “Tell me where the girls are.”

“There’s a – a – one of the bricks in the south transept – it opens a passageway down into the crypt. I can’t remember exactly.”

“That’s enough.” It was hardly anything to go on, but Riku was getting used to that. “If anyone asks – I knocked you out and took the key for myself.”

Smee nodded, and handed it over, looking equal parts agonised and immensely relieved.

Riku locked the door behind him, then stood on the edge of the staircase. Was he brave enough for this?

Sora was coming. He knew that, as surely as he knew he loved him. Sora was running to Riku.

If anything gave him the strength to face his mother, that would.

*

Riku slipped down the staircase as silently as he could. There was a priests’ robe slung over a chair in the hallway he came to, and he slipped it around his shoulders. He was still wearing the fine clothes from Versailles, though now they were torn and bloody.

He continued down.

The silence in the church became unnerving as he got lower and lower. When he stepped onto the ground floor and looked out, the sight was chilling. Notre Dame was completely empty – none of the candles had even been lit. There wasn’t a worshipper in sight, and a wide, wooden bar had been drawn over the door.

He stepped onto the floor, almost to the puddle of light that came through the rose stained glass, feeling a chill up his back. They had planned this – they’d locked the public out of Notre Dame because their work was coming to tuition.

Maybe he was too late.

His ears began to adjust. He could hear a noise beyond the thick doors – like a crowd had gathered. There was cheering and laughter. Maybe a show was going on in the square.

Riku turned away. He hastened to the south transept, and pushed at every brick he could. None of them budged, and there was no ominous rumbling to suggest that a passage had been unlocked.

He was just about to turn and do it all again, methodically this time, when he noticed the oddly shaped brick in the corner. The rock looked misshapen, as though it had been worn away by weather, but now that he looked closer, he realised it was worn away in a circle.

The exact size of –

Riku reached into his clothes, then hissed a breath through his teeth. Terra had Barbossa’s pocket watch.

Nonetheless, he pushed his fist against the space, ran his fingers around the edge of the hole, until he felt the slight groove. There. He pushed his nail against it, and heard a click.

He released his breath as part of the stones came away. There was a passage beyond them, worn, stone steps leading into the darkness.

Voices echoed form somewhere in the main church, startling Riku into slipping down the stairs and pulling the passage closed behind him.

It completely muffled the voices and left him in pitch black.

Riku immediately regretted it. His chest flared with panic and the air suddenly felt hot and heavy in his throat.

He stretched his hands out, feeling the stone walls either side of him, and remembered where he was. What he was doing. He wasn’t in a cupboard. He wasn’t in a dorm in the dark. Carefully, he made his way down the stairs. It was slow going and his heart was in his mouth.

A glow appeared in the blackness. As his eyes adjusted to it, Riku saw that torches were fixed into the wall. It was a narrow corridor, the amber firelight flickering over stone. They looked damp, and there was a dripping sound coming from somewhere. Bars loomed in front of him, and behind that, a dark shape.

Riku stepped up to the bars. “Hello?”

Something wet landed on his cheek.

“Get away from me!” The figure hissed.

Riku blinked. Then remembered that he was wearing the priests robe. He pulled the hood down, holding up the palms of his hands.

“No – I’m not with them – I’m looking for Kairi,” he said, quickly. “I’m a friend of Sora’s.”

“Sora?” The figure stood, coming closer to the bars. A girl came into the light. She had a petite frame, was the same height as Sora. Her skin was pale, but her hair was bright. He’d never seen hair so red.

“Aye – I’m part of his crew,” Riku repeated. She looked at him, almost suspiciously, her hands clutching the bars under his. Blue eyes – not that same dazzling blue as Sora’s, looked him over. They weren’t the same as Sora’s – but they were the same as Namine’s. Now that she was closer.

This was it. This was who they had been searching for.

“You’re Kairi.” Riku stared at her. “He’s been looking for you.”

“You’re on his crew?” Kairi tilted her head to one side, red hair catching the light so that it looked like flames. The question was evident in the narrowing of her eyes.

“I…had to get away from England. He had a ship.” Riku leant closer, as though they would be overheard. “I swear it’s the truth. He sails with a duck called Donald, a dog called Goofy and a mouse named Mickey.”

He wished Mickey were on his shoulder now. It was the only way that he felt safe in the dark.

Kairi’s eyes softened. Her whole demeanour softened, as she leant closer to Riku. Even her lips were pale.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“He’s on his way.” That was true, Riku was sure. “I can get you out of here. Are there others down here?”

Kairi nodded. “In the other cells.”

Riku glanced around. The floor was grown over with moss and lichen, and there didn’t seem to be anything of use.

There – a discarded torch. It would have to do. He scooped it up and began battering the lock, glancing over his shoulder every other moment in case they would be heard.

“Wouldn’t it be better to fetch the key?” Kairi stepped back from his manic attempts, rubbing her hands over her arms. She wore a plain shift, that no doubt didn’t keep any of the chill down here out.

Riku shook his head. “If mother catches me –”

“ _Mother?”_ She stared at him, then, as though he was a monster. He tried not to be hurt by that – he could understand where her hatred had come from.

“Do you know anything about their plan?” Riku pressed. “What is it they need?”

“A – a certain kind of moon,” Kairi said. Distrust had filled her eyes again. “A blood moon, they said.”

“And what then?”

“ _Monsieur Riku_?” a new voice called from the darkness. At the bars next to Kairi, Cinderella’s pretty face appeared. Her eyes sparkled when she saw him.

“Dame Cinderella.” He reached a hand to her outstretched arms, abandoning his attack on Kairi’s lock for a moment. “You’re alright.”

“Of course I am,” she replied. Her fingers circled the cuts on his wrists. “But you are not.”

“I’m fine.” He pulled his hand away, ready to resume his work. “I’ll get us all out of here.”

But then there was a rumble of stone. Light flooded down the staircase, and Riku heard voices. Saw silhouettes like monsters on the wall, wobbling as they drew closer and closer.

His stomach tightened and he panicked, pulling up his hood again to hide his face.

He wasn’t caught, he told himself, and he would still be able to get all the girl’s out – as long as he was clever.

*

Sora was glad he had been a rigging monkey. It gave him the perfect amount of balance to walk across beams and flip himself through the air with ease.

In another life, he could have happily been a gypsy, performing in the streets.

But he wasn’t here for fun.

Now that there was a sizeable crowd around Notre Dame, other performers had joined the circle of stones they called a stage, boasting of their own talents. The air was full of cheering and calling.

Sora landed from a flip lightly, his fingers grazing the floor, just as Esmeralda began to dance.

Wolf-whistles emerged immediately and under all of the noise, Sora could hear the jangle of her anklets as she twisted herself round.

The crowd parted as he rolled himself forward – they all thought this was part of the act too. But now there was a sword-swallower, and it made them forget all about the small acrobat in red and yellow.

Sora straightened, and pushed his way through the rest of the crowd – to the huge double doors of Notre Dame. Statues glared down at him with stony faces. Even the gargoyles seemed to peer at him with interest – leering down at him as he pushed against the wood.

It didn’t move.

Locked. It wasn’t meant to be locked.

But there was another way in. Esmeralda had given him directions to a small side entrance, and he pushed through the crowd, pressing himself against the stones.

It was out of the main square, down a narrow side road that was covered in muck. That was another thing about cities instead of ports – so many horses and houses leaving mess on the street. Sora wrinkled his nose. At least this was away from some of the noise.

There it was – the small side door. Sora hastened over to it.

Just as he touched the handle, he heard voices.

“-you of all people, would be opposed to this.”

His blood chilled. He recognised the voice.

Riku’s mother.

It was coming from a small window, at ground level. Sora crouched by it, pressing it open with the tip of the knife Clopin lent him.

Another voice – Governor Frollo’s – became clearer, “sometimes we must do some unsavoury things for the greater good. Even the Lord can see that this – this necessitates a little sin.”

Sora pushed the window open further, to see one shadow retreating from the other. He leant closer, peering into the darkness.

Riku’s mother stood with his back to him, her plaited hair creating a menacing shadow.

“And yet.” Governor Frollo turned back. Sora shied out of sight. “I wonder about the intricacies of this plan. How, exactly, does one split total control of the oceans?”

A high laugh made Sora grit his teeth.

“Why, we an ocean each of course,” the woman replied. “Wouldn’t the Indian Ocean suit you finely?”

“Of course, of course, that much I understand.” Governor Frollo waved a hand. “I mean the other parts.”

“Why does it worry you, Governor? Fear for your immortal soul?”

Sora got the courage to peer back into the window, pushing it back open. The pair were walking away from it, down a dark and gloomy corridor.

“Certainly not. I just wonder what the use of the boy is,” Governor Frollo replied. Riku. They were talking about Riku. Sora didn’t think – he just crouched low to the ground, and began to slip himself through the window. “If this really _will_ grant you – what is the wording on that musty old scroll?”

“The powers of one worshipped. Of a deity.”

Sora lowered himself slowly, his sore wrists and palms protesting at him hanging from the stone ledge. A pebble cut into his hand.

“Which must include eternal life.” Governor Frollo’s voice already sounded distant. Sora let himself drop, landing as quietly as a cat. “So, what use have you for him?”

“You will teach him, mould him around to _our_ way of thinking.” Sora could hear the smile in her voice. He bit his cheek, clenched his fists as he straightened. The taste of copper filled his mouth. “Riku is easily swayed. Someone with your…capabilities will have no problem with him.”

“You’re _wrong_!”

He wasn’t thinking – did not even realise he had given his cover – the cover all of the gypsies had worked so hard to give him – away. 

“You never broke Riku,” Sora said. His eyes were only on Riku’s mother’s. Her dark eyes flashed at him in the torchlight down here. They seemed to catch the fire, as if they were lit with coals from within. “That’s why he left you in the first place. And you’ll never break him. He’s the strongest person I know.”

His words echoed down the stone corridor, as if they were three of him, all bursting with some emotion that he couldn’t describe. Some emotion that was tearing him apart like a firework. That made his skin so warm all over it felt as though he was glowing.

Riku left. He didn’t run. He chose to go and he chose to go with Sora. Nothing could change that.

“Well then.” There was a smile on Riku’s mother’s lips. The candlelight made them look dark – outlined in shadow. “I don’t suppose you’ve met many strong people.”

She clicked pale fingers together.

Sora heard footsteps behind him, but did not – could not – turn away from her. His eyes were fixed on hers – making sure they kept their hold, as he slipped Clopin’s knife up and into his shirt sleeve.

Hands took his arms, heled them to him fast, but the tight cuff of the shirt kept the dagger firmly in place. He twisted to see a robed figure clutching onto him, the hood over their face. Their fingers pressed into him – so tightly he was sure that he would have hand-shaped bruises.

“ _That_ boy again?” Governor Frollo’s lip curled upwards at him.

He curled his back. “I’m here for my friends. For everyone you’ve stolen from the people who care about them.”

Lady Maleficent laughed. Cackled.

“This is no laughing matter.” Governor Frollo frowned at her. “This boy found us – he must have heard some of our plan –”

She held up a hand to silence him. She was stood by a torch, and the light of the flame danced over her white cheek.

“We have him. The boy can have the answers he so _clearly_ desires.” She looked over him, the cackle still on her mouth. “He will watch our little ceremony, and I’m sure he won’t like what he sees. The heartbreak will be written all over his face.” She took a breath, as though the image gave her life. Sora glared, but his heart was starting to race. It was just like seeing her for the first time – he was just scared, as much as he hated to admit it. “We’ll hang him, when he’s completely…hollow.”

He kept glaring. It was such an effort to breathe properly that his shoulders were rising and falling. If he tried to shake the hands off, they would return with a tighter grip.

Lady Maleficent stepped closer. Her shoes clicked on the stone floor. When she stood in front of Sora – close enough for him to smell her sharp perfume – she bent her head slightly, lowering her voice to a hiss.

“You say Riku won’t be broken?” she asked. “Your limp body, swaying in the breeze, will be just the thing.”

The thought of hanging was not what scared him. The thought of Riku seeing it, however – that made his throat swell and his eyes feel prickly.

“You’re a soulless witch.” He spat – literally spat at her.

And was swiftly rewarded with a backhanded slap that sent his head spinning around. His neck cried out with the pain of it. But he still flicked his hair out of his eyes to glare, again.

“Bring him along.” Lady Maleficent wasn’t even looking at him now. She turned, black cloth swaying around her, and headed back down the passage.

Sora was pushed along behind her. He increased his step.

This was it. This was what he had been searching for.

It had taken three years, but he had found this – found them.

And there was no way he was going to be dancing with Jack Ketch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Most of the regular commenters (you're all angels by the way and I can't thank you enough!!!) seemed to appear so I thought I'd post this chapter now.   
> Again - gypsy is used in the same way it would be used in The Hunchback of Notre Dame (book and movie) - that was the word that was used. We wouldn't use that word now, of course, and I don't condone doing so. (It would be interesting to see if that would ever change in an adaptation of Hunchback...)  
> But yeah you can tell from this chapter that I have a soft spot for Smee.  
> Lots of things happened in this chapter so do leave a comment below with any thoughts that you have. The attention this fic has got is amazing <3  
> I'll update again on Thursday, and then I'll go back to just Thursday updates xxx


	24. The Ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): There's a bit of blood and gore in this chapter (I'm an awful judge at how graphic I make things because I watch horror movies constantly so I'm completely desensitised.) So just be warned that some not very pleasant things happen.

The Ritual

The chamber had been built purposefully.

At least, Riku had to suppose so, because he could not see why there would be a circular room in the Paris catacombs, with tiered seating.

It was fuller than one might have expected for such an occasion. There were three tiers of seats, with six priests dressed in dark robes like his, stood on each one. If there was one who was missing a robe, they had not come running in. Hook was there, at the front. Sided by two women he vaguely recognised from his childhood, another man. They all had the same carve of cruelty to their face.

The room was vast, but low-ceilinged. Braziers were fixed into the walls, burning fire that seemed too yellow to Riku. It made the dingy, moss-covered walls look almost green.

There were seven girls – most of them women – stood in the lowest tier of the room, their hands bound, stood around a shallow bowl in the floor. Kairi faced Riku, her eyes even darker blue in the torchlight. Though her face was ashen, she did not seem scared.

But she was. Because Riku recognised the expression she was wearing. It was the face of someone who was terrified, but who was trying to seem brave all the same. The kind of face he had worn for years.

The door – the door that Riku had followed the other cloaked priests through – slammed open. He managed to catch himself from jumping, but he saw the quiver in Kairi’s shoulders.

He couldn’t blame her. Even he felt his hands tremble as the woman entered the room. His mother. Her face seemed colder than ever – any façade at being a human had dropped.

Governor Frollo was with her, looking as haughty as a cat who had dragged in a half-dead pigeon.

Moments later, Riku saw why.

They were flanked by more hooded priests. Two were holding someone, tightly. Riku could only see the bright outfit and messy hair. A gypsy – maybe one of Esmeralda’s friends.

But then Kairi cried out, “Sora?”

And the person looked up.

Riku watched the astonishment widen Sora’s eyes – drop his jaw so that it was in danger of hanging on the floor, before it bounced back into a wide, crooked grin.

“Kairi!”

Heart in his chest, Riku stepped forward without thinking.

The priests either side of him turned – as though they sensed that he was different – and Riku realised it was too late – the mistake had been made.

“Sora!” He leapt down from where he was stood – darting around a figure to make it to the bottom and landing heavily.

All he could see was Sora’s glittering eyes.

“ _Riku_.” It wasn’t said with the same excitement that he’d said Kairi’s voice. This was half-breathed – this was relief. Absolute, complete relief that Riku was alive.

“Wonderful.” His mother’s voice cut through the reunion. She looked down at him without lowering her chin. But she looked delighted. “I hoped that you would make it to the occasion, dear.”

Riku frowned. “Make it?”

She laughed, and it echoed through the cavern like a chill. “You really thought I’d trust little blithering Smee to keep an eye on you? No, I wanted you here, and I was sure that you would find a way to be.”

His mother was always five steps ahead of them. No matter how far they ran, no matter what ship they were on, she seemed to find them. Always seemed to know where they were and what they were going to do.

Riku saw it all, as though it was laid out in front of him, as a mouse realises the cat was toying with it the whole time.

And he knew that if he didn’t do something, then it would continue going his mother’s way. That they could fight but no matter what, they were both caught fast in the trap.

Unless –

“And I will.” The words came out of Riku, sounding pre-meditated and fully formed when he scarcely knew what he was saying. His eyes flickered between hers and Sora’s. Those impossibly blue eyes that had him from the start. “I’ll sit here, quietly and do everything you ask of me. I’ll stay here and I’ll become the heir you want.”

“No, dove.” Sora sounded winded. He stared at him desperately.

Riku closed his eyes for a second, gathering his courage. Then looked back at his mother. “I’ll do anything you ask, if you let him live.”

His mother examined him. There was muttering in the chamber, from the robed priests further away – no doubt wondering why this ritual was being interrupted by family matters. Hopefully, they were enjoying the show.

She stepped forward. Traced the tips of her fingers over his temple, down his cheek and to his chin. It was a move she had done countless times. It should have sent a chill through him – instead there was still an ounce of comfort in it.

“No more scandals, Riku?” she murmured. That was her sweet voice, her convincing voice.

Riku didn’t need that anymore. He looked beyond her, to Sora desperately fighting against his holders, frowning at him.

He kept his eyes there. “There’s no one left I’d want.”

Governor Frollo snorted.

“Said Juliet to Romeo.”

Riku felt his lips twitch.

Sora had stopped moving now, looking as though he was scarcely breathing.

“No,” Riku said. “Said Desdemona to Othello.”

He always knew this would end a tragedy.

*

The hilt of his dagger was a steady, comforting weight against the tip of Sora’s pointer finger. All he had to do was wait for the right moment to cut the ropes from his wrists, grab Kairi, grab Riku and run.

It would be simple.

Only Kairi was stood with the rest of the girls, and Riku was on the other side of the chamber. He’d tried to keep count of the turns they had taken to get here, but that had already started to muddle in his head. Was it two lefts and then a right, or two rights and then a left?

At least, when they got outside, the gypsies would hide them.

Assuming the gypsies were still there.

Esmeralda had smiled at his plan, and it had made him feel like he could do this.

Now, he literally had his hands tied, and a ghost of a plan to save everyone.

At least he still had his desperate need to talk.

“Is this the part where you tell us your whole plan?” he asked.

“Don’t listen to the scoundrel,” Governor Frollo hissed in Lady Maleficent’s ear. “He’s trying to stall us.”

But she held up a hand to silence him.

Riku was looking at Sora, and he gave a barely perceptible nod of his head.

“If you really are going to hang him at first light, then there’s nothing to lose, is there?” he asked, turning to her. He was still held fast by hooded figures. “And I should now your plan, shouldn’t I, as your heir?”

“There is plenty of time.” She spoke to Governor Frollo as if she hadn’t heard Riku. But then she smiled, cruelly, nails flicking out to brush some of the hair away from his eyes. “But I’m sure a smart boy like you has already figured it all out.”

“The girls are sacrifices,” Riku said. His eyes were on Sora, as though he was trying to tell him something more. If he was, Sora couldn’t figure it out. “You think if you spill each of their blood on this night, then you’ll be given the powers of a God.”

“Think?” Maleficent’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “Riku, dear, I _know_ that we’ll be granted this power.”

Riku laughed, then. It was the haughty laugh of a rich school boy. This was definitely not the time, but Sora felt his stomach leap at that. Because he had the sudden image of Riku playing hockey, or cricket – in school uniform and giving that laugh.

He never would have survived going to school with that boy.

The laugh died when Maleficent’s face remained stony. She smiled back, and the dark red rouge on her lips shone in the light of the candles.

“We’ve tested it, before, you see.” And, from the top of her corset, she pulled out a tiny vial of red liquid. “Now, this is from the last full moon, not a blood one, so understand it won’t be as potent as the results tonight.”

Maleficent unlatched the vial with deft fingers, then drank the contents in one swing. It made the rouge on her lips have a different meaning.

Immediately there seemed to be an effect. Sora couldn’t say _how_ exactly, but Maleficent looked different. Shinier eyes, a different tilt to her chin or power in her stance. He couldn’t look away from her. It was as if she was glowing, but she clearly wasn’t.

She motioned to the nearest hooded figure, who stepped forward. Then she flicked her hand, as dismissively as she had always done, but it was as though her long nails sent a shockwave with them. Not when that Sora could see, but even from where he was standing, he could _feel_ the impact of it from the man.

A second later, he began to cough, violently. A hacking cough as he thumped a fist on his chest.

Sora stepped forward, instinctively, to help, and was tugged backwards so hard it felt as though his arm had been yanked from the socket.

The man was still coughing.

And then a mouthful of water splashed onto the floor.

He’d thrown his hood back, and his eyes bulged as another gulp of sea water came from him.

Sora felt bile rise in his throat, and swallowed.

There was something about the coughs – the increase and decrease of them – as the man gasped for air, that reminded him of the tide. He was sure that he could smell saltwater in the air.

It took a long time for the man to fall forward, still spluttering water up like a broken fountain. He hit the flagstones with a crack.

The water pooled across the floor, seeping its way all the way to the hem of the nearest woman’s dress. She didn’t twitch it away, but her hand covered her pale lips and her eyes were downcast. They all stood, watching this with some sort of resigned, mute horror.

“The power of a God of the sea,” Riku’s mother declared. There was a triumphant smile on her face. Riku’s eyes were on the body on the floor. His face was pale too and his chest rose and fell shallowly. “Under a blood moon, and using _all_ of the available blood, the power is more potent. More lasting.”

“How?” Riku’s voice was hoarse. His eyes did not move from the water sizeable puddle on the floor. “How is that possible?”

Sora wanted to raise an eyebrow at him. After everything they had seen – after living with Naminé for so long, Riku doubted something like this could happen?

“Of course, you know that tides are controlled by the moons.” Lady Maleficent was staring at the man too, with her hooded eyes. “And you know there are red moons, blue moons, flower moons, yes?”

Riku nodded, his head jerking unnaturally, as though he was a puppet on a string.

“Take a girl, each born under a special moon, mix her blood with the others…and add a little…” Her lips quirked, and she looked to Governor Frollo for just a moment. “Paganism to talk to the right…powers, shall we say?”

There was no reply, but the silence still echoed around the chamber.

Then the woman with water on her dress spoke – the first words Sora had heard from her. It was in clear, unafraid German, but the meaning of ‘ _monströs’_ was easy to understand.

Lady Maleficent just turned that smile onto her. Her teeth were stained with the concoction from the vial.

Sora looked at the seven girls stood there, hands bound behind their backs. They were all pretty, he supposed; a kind of beauty from within that would have made them stand out from other people. The older four had stood there with a silent dignity throughout all of this, staring resolutely forward.

It was a kind of courage. He knew that. Not to break down. To stay impassive and statue-esque as a final curse at the people doing this. It was clear that they were all of high birth. He wondered if they thought that they were going to be rescued.

Going by the German, he wondered how many could understand what was happening.

Then there was a younger girl – fourteen or fifteen – who’s skin was so white it glowed in the torchlight. She had her eyes closed and her mouth moved quickly in prayer. And a girl even younger – perhaps not even thirteen – who was hiding her face behind her hair. Her shoulders were shaking, and if he listened, he could hear her whispering prayers too.

That left Kairi. Who was staring at Sora as though he was a ghost. Her eyes hadn’t left him, as soon as he had been brought into the room. But it was impossible to read her expression – if she was astonished, relived, angry or happy, he couldn’t tell.

Had it really been so long?

“You’re going to bleed them dry,” Sora said. Just to make it seem more real. Or to ignite any tiny chance that he’d be proven wrong.

The youngest girl burst into noisy sobs. It sounded as though the sound was coming from inside Sora. It beat against his ribcage and made it hard to breathe.

“Every drop is needed for this to work,” Maleficent replied.

Every drop. Sora had a sudden idea.

“You can’t!” Riku looked desperately to where Lady Cinderella stood. She looked at _him_ with pity in her eyes. He stepped forward – but his mother moved like a wasp. Her pale fingers gripped his chin, turning it roughly to her.

“Now, Riku.” She said each word as a long sigh, her eyes examining every one of his features. Her thumb pressed against his lip, rubbing slightly as though she could seal it closed. “I thought we had a deal. You were going to be a good boy, remember? Like you used to be. And in return, I wouldn’t harm a hair on your little pirate’s head.”

“Oh, let me choose the very hair, my lady.” Hook stood then, a crocodile’s smile on his face. “It would be my very pleasure.”

“We had a deal.” The room carried Riku’s whisper well.

His mother smiled down at him, with the same pity Lady Cinderella had, but twisted somehow.

“I won’t kill him,” she said. “But I never said I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Riku stared up at her, dumbfounded.

Then he wrenched his face away. Now, he scowled, looking up at her with eyes of blue-green fire and a snarl on his face.

“Then we have no deal,” he snapped. “I won’t be your toy. I’ll join you in this – only so that I can fight against you for every moment after. Only so that I can send everything you’ve built tumbling to the ground, brick by brick.”

Sora really wished that his hands weren’t bound, even as he tried to shimmy his knife all the way into his grip. But he needed to run to Riku – needed to kiss him senseless and tell him how proud he was – how it felt as though his chest was going to burst. He needed to laugh and cry and _love_ Riku for his words – for him.

The thing that he had been searching for. He realised it in that moment. The moment that those blue-green fire eyes turned to his. Riku was the thing that he needed to have – the thing that he would run to. To the ends of the earth.

*

“We’re squandering our time now.” As always, Riku’s mother succeeded best at making him feel insignificant, and inferior. But he had seen the look in her eyes. The look of fury, yes, but there was something behind it. There was a spark of fear in her dark eyes as she looked at him now.

There was no going back. He had broken off his strings.

She couldn’t control him anymore. He couldn’t let that happen again.

“Begin.” She flicked a hand at one of the men, who visibly winced. When he realised that he was not going to drown from the inside, he stepped forward, taking hold of the girl who had spoken before. The German lady with long, golden hair.

“ _No_!” Riku surged forward, but was held back. A fist hit his stomach – twice, and he doubled-over, fighting for air.

There was chanting the air above him, but it sounded far away. Echoey and distant.

When he could catch his breath and looked up, he saw the woman being pressed over the basin. She had her eyes closed, with all the dignity, Riku was sure, that Marie Antoinette had over the guillotine.

There was a flash of silver.

And then red filled the basin.

Oddly, the face of Smee sprang to his mind. How worried he had been when he had thought they really would hurt the girls.

Well now they had.

And Riku felt as though he had failed the small, sad man.

“Well?” His mother’s voice cracked across the room like a whip. “Get on with it, you fools.”

She could speak so casually about this. The brave, blonde girl had been right when she had said it.

Monster.

Another girl was being brought forward – this time the one with dark skin. Her eyes were above the basin, still maintaining an air of indifference, and yet Riku could see her swallow heavily.

There was so much red.

Kairi was crying. Silently. Tears fell down her cheeks, as though the watery blue of her eyes was leaking out. Captain Hook wasn’t watching now. His eyes were on the puddle on the floor.

Governor Frollo was grinning.

Then everything happened in quick succession. First, there was another flash of silver. Second, the youngest girl let out a desperate howl of misery. She was hit, mercilessly, in her stomach. That was when Sora screamed, “don’t touch her!”

And then ran forward, elbowing both men holding him viciously in the stomach.

His hands were freed.

There was a knife in one.

Riku, in an awful moment of clarity, knew who it was for.

*

The first lady was being slumped to the floor.

Every step felt as though it sent a judder of electricity through Sora’s entire body. His eyes focused on the basin. The basin full of red and filling with even more.

His plan was desperate. But he was sure that it would work.

The edge of the basin was closer than he thought. His foot caught the edge, and he slipped, falling down the shallow slope.

Red splashed his shoes – splashed his trousers.

There was noise everywhere. Maleficent yelling, “catch him, you fools!” and Riku and Kairi screaming his name. The girl was still crying. The men were still chanting.

How much was enough? There was no way of knowing. More was better than less.

“Every drop counts, huh?” He could barely hear his own voice. “Then let’s see how mine adds up!”

Sora gripped the knife with both hands, took a quick breath, then plunged it down.

There was a sharp, strong pain, just below his naval.

And then his knees splashed in the red, and a high, piercing sound cut through all of the other noises.

*

The moment of panic was the moment that Riku needed.

He thrust his arm backwards, to dislodge the grip on him, then dived forward. His eyes were on Hook’s sword, and his fingers closed around it a second later.

He drew it, wielding it front of him as pointed it at Hook – Governor Frollo – his mother.

Who really did look like a monster now. Her lips curled away from her stained teeth in a snarl, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing. The whites seemed even whiter than before, her irises tiny dark rings around her pupils.

She was screaming at Sora. The kind of scream that tore at her throat.

“Run!” Riku turned to the girls. Yelling it over and over again. “Run! The way we came!”

The chanting had stopped now, and the robed figures were coming down, making their way down the rings of the room in a slow, almost confused way.

At least the ladies ran. Even with bound hands, they streaked across the chamber, pushing against the robed figures and barging past them. They weren’t stopped.

They were useless to Maleficent now.

Riku found the edge of the basin. Stepped over the two husks slumped on the edge, and half-fell down to the bottom. It splashed up, the mixture from three people, onto the robe he wearing.

He could taste it, in the air. Iron.

Sora was there. Curled over the dagger in his stomach, his hands still on the hilt, shoulders shaking as he struggled for breath.

Riku didn’t think. Just leant down and flung one of Sora’s arms over his shoulders, then stood back up. Took a breath that felt damp – then started the charge back up the basin.

His boot slipped.

Just as they were going to be sent tumbling to the bottom again, a hand clutched at his hair. Dragged him up the rest of the way.

He lost his hold on Sora, and felt the boy roll away from him, crying out like a kicked puppy.

Riku was on his back, stars sparking in his vision from the impact of his head against the flagstones.

And his mother loomed over him. She was on top of him, knees pressed against his sides.

Her hands closed around his throat. Her nails pressed down first, followed by the pressure at the front of his neck. He struggled, trying to find any air.

“I’ve been a good mother, to you, Riku.” Her voice was soft. Silky. It didn’t match the twisted, too-wide grin, her rouge bright red against her pale skin. “Even with all of your…transgressions, I was good to you. You were a bad child. Rotten. Any parent would have struggled.” Her fingers pressed tighter. His hands were on her wrists, trying to prise her off. “But now you’ve ruined everything. You and that filthy wretch of a pirate.”

Riku’s legs kicked uselessly.

Then there was the scream of a woman. And a dull thud. He saw, though his vision was starting to blur, his mother’s head jerk to the side.

And then again. A scream. A thud.

His mother fell off of him.

He flopped over, gasping for air like a fish pulled out of the river. No matter how he gasped, he didn’t seem able to _breathe._ Still couldn’t breathe. Still couldn’t.

Sora’s hand was near his. Tanned. Stained with red.

Riku reached for it.

“Come _on_!” There was a hand pulling at him, draping his arm over someone’s shoulder. It picked Sora’s up too. “Hell’s teeth, _move_! You have to _move_!”

Riku found his feet, stopped them from slipping over the flagstone floor and forced himself to walk – to stumble into a run.

It was Kairi holding him up. Kariri, with blood as red as her hair streaked over her face, panting and gasping but helping to pull the two of them through the chamber.

Only Governor Frollo stood in their way. He held a dagger too, waving it at them with the air of a man who had no idea how to use it.

They halted.

Riku glanced back, still trying to remember how to kick his lungs into action. His mother was picking herself up off of the floor. Half of her hair was loose, giving her a lopsided opinion.

“You’ll burn in hell for this!” Kairi screamed at him.

It made Governor Frollo hesitate. Eyes widen. Mouth open to make some sort of rebuttal.

Kairi threw the weapon she still had at him. It was a torch bracket, and it hit him squarely on the forehead.

He fell back. They rushed forward.

And as soon as they were out of the main chamber, Kairi released them. She turned, closing the heavy stone doors with a grunt. Riku helped. They pushed the wooden beam that locked it across just as they heard pounding on the other side.

“Thank you,” Riku gasped.

Kairi just panted for air.

The pounding was heavy now, enough to make them worry for the wooden beam.

Riku, finally able to breathe, albeit heavily, stooped and lifted Sora onto his shoulders. The dagger hilt was by one ear, Sora’s mouth by the other.

Kairi led the way, picking up another torch bracket and covering their rear as they progressed through the dark chambers.

“Riku,” Sora whispered.

“Ssh,” he replied. “Save your breath.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“But I –” Sora’s breath rattled. “I really love you.”

That was the boy Riku was head over heels for. It burst his chest open, all of the feelings inside of him. The overwhelming love. Because this was love – love that he had never, ever known and now he could understand why a face would launch a thousand ships.

He could understand why he wanted to run this boy. No matter how far.

*

They caught up with the ladies. They held hands as they travelled through the passageways.

The pain in Sora’s stomach was unbearable. He closed his eyes. Feeling Riku walking quickly underneath him, shoulders jostling up and down.

It was like being at sea. Back at sea. With Riku’s breath in his ear.

They were good memories.

He sighed and let the rhythm of it rock him away. It made the pain grow numb, made him forget about it a little.

Until there were suddenly voices. New voices, and loud, that pulled him from his fantasies.

He cracked open his eyes to see a huge hall. Vast ceilings and pillars everywhere. It was full, full of people yelling and shouting and – could they stop because he just wanted to go to sleep.

Then he heard it.

“Little lion!”

And he raised his head, as much as he could, to see Terra.

Why was Terra here? How was Terra here?

Aqua was next to him. And they looked worried – terrified – but he couldn’t keep his eyes open to focus on them.

He tried to smile.

But felt his eyes close.

*

The inside of Notre Dame was full of French Musketeers. And gypsies.

Riku had never seen such an odd mixture – a people usually at war with each other – standing side by side.

The Prince was there, and Lady Cinderella spoke rapid French to him. Riku assumed she was explaining everything that happened, but his mind couldn’t translate. Not when she was speaking so fast, and not when Sora had been lifted from his shoulders and laid on the floor.

His face was ashen. The brown leeched into an almost grey colour. His lips were bloodless, which was ironic, because there was blood everywhere. So much red.

Riku’s fingers shook, touching the knife – trailing down to just above the wound.

“He – He’ll live, won’t he?” His voice shook as much as his body. He looked desperately up at Aqua, who was staring down at Sora in utter shock. “He has to live.”

A gypsy woman pressed her way through the crowd, and knelt by them. A gypsy woman with thick, curling dark hair.

“He’ll live,” she said. “No major organs were hit. You did well to keep the knife in, it stoppered the bleeding.”

She looked up at him, with eyes that were as bright a green as a cat’s. And Riku recognised her. Suddenly.

Esmerelda smiled.

“Good to see you again, Riku. What a handsome man you’ve grown into.”

From there, it was a blur. Riku stayed by Sora. Helping Esmerelda to tend him. He pressed down on the wound, pressed herbs into it, helped to hold it together whilst she sewed, deftly with a needle.

All the while, he was aware of arrests being made. Of the musketeers finding the cult members and tying them firmly. Of them finding Governor Frollo, Hook, his mother and taking them too.

He saw Aqua running to Cinderella. Saw her hands hovering over Cinderella’s face, before the Princess took her and kissed her passionately. They both clung to each other, completely entwined, as though they were the only two people in the world. Was that what he looked like with Sora?

Kairi was next to him, comforting the sobbing, youngest girl and watching them work with mute terror.

He heard someone – perhaps the true priest of Notre Dame – declare the church a sanctuary for the victims.

Sora was rolled onto a makeshift stretcher, and he followed him through the church. Into one of the above rooms, where there was a pallet of hay.

“With rest, he’ll recover.” Esmerelda told him. She squeezed his hand. It was covered in blood.

So was his.

She left them and they didn’t need a light because the night was starting to give way. The lilac light of dawn was appearing through the tiny window.

Riku lay down on the pallet, next to Sora. He was twitching slightly in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering as though he was in a fever.

But he was alive. And Riku would make sure that he would stay that way.

Sora was alive.

And that was the last thought he had, before he drifted into a dead sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I have a few other notes:  
> -I don't know how moons work. I just kind of leant into fiction with this one because it's fanfic and I wanted it to be that way.  
> -I use the word pagan because at this vague point in history paganism was kind of any religion that wasn't christianity and therefore seen as mysterious and strange. I didn't take any inspiration from any religions intentionally - this just sprung out of my head whilst I wrote the climax in some sort of trance. (You know when you get so involved in a book that you don't /see/ the page anymore - that was this but I don't remember seeing my screen at all.)  
> -I also hope this isn't as bad a cliffhanger as some of the others I've left this on. I wanted to stop it at a point where it was clear that everything was going to be fine, without making the chapter super long. (And this way there are more chapters to update with...)  
> But yeah things have mostly all come together. There was a lot more initially that I wanted to incorporate - Ansem/Xehanort and the Organisation, but as I started to get to chapter 12 or so I realised that it was just going to get too complicated and long winded. Personally, I'll always love the first kh game because of its simplicity. The tie in with Disney feels more authentic than in the later games (by Kh3 it felt like 'well, this is how the games go so we're just gunna...do that?) and I'm obsessed with the climax in Hollow Bastion. (As is probably obvious by the route this fic took.)  
> I do hope that it still lived up to expectations - I was starting to feel the pressure on delivering on all of this - all the same. I'm really happy with how it came out.  
> But there are still a few things to wrap up so that'll be the next few chapters. And I'll go back to just updating on Thursday. xx


	25. The Tale

Sora was inches from Riku’s face.

He had woken slowly, as though he was floating gently to the surface of a dark sea. The pain in his abdomen increased, the higher he floated, and it was a throbbing ache now.

There were pigeons on the windowsill outside, cooing, and light poured in from the window, adding a sheen of gold to Riku’s cheek. He was still fast asleep, and the side of his face that was in shadow, was crusted in dried blood. There wasn’t a cut there.

It was Sora’s blood. His finger hovered above it, tracing the shape that it made. He was struggling to remember what had happened. It was just a blur of sounds, or running through the tunnels – running.

Riku’s eyelashes fluttered, casting shadows over his cheeks. His arms pulled Sora closer – and he felt impossibly safe. He’d always felt safe with Riku but now that he was remembering it was all over, he felt as though there couldn’t be danger. Not ever again.

His finger alighted on Riku’s cheek, with a feather-light touch.

Riku’s eyelashes fluttered, and then he revealed those eyes. They looked tired, and sore, but were just as beautifully blue-green as ever. Still enough to find Sora struggling to catch his breathe again.

“Ahoy there,” Sora eventually managed to whisper.

Riku was staring at him, as though he was still half-asleep, and his thumbs rubbed circles into the small of Sora’s back. He sighed. This was like a dream. But the pain told him it wasn’t.

“I spent ages,” Riku said. He spoke slowly, as though he was struggling to remember the words. “Thinking about what I was going to do when you woke up. I was going to punch you, or yell at you…” His lips twitched upwards. It was a tired smile, too. “But I don't think I even have the courage to kiss you.”

“Ah, well.” Sora found himself grinning. It was good to grin again – good to have his chest full of butterflies again. Just that feeling made it easy to grin. “I can help with that.”

He pressed his lips against Riku’s, very gently, and felt Riku’s breath fan across his cheeks as he sighed against him, and pulled him closer. Sora buried his hands into Riku’s shirt – it was also more crimson than white.

“Any amount of blood would have done,” Riku murmured. His forehead nudged Sora’s. “You didn't have to...”

Sora knew he didn’t have to. But it was all he’d been able to think of. He’d been thinking about how easy it would have been to have someone stop and pull him out if he’d just cut his hand. How it would have taken longer for the blood to drop down.

“I made sure,” he said. “I had to.”

Riku sighed. He unburied his hand from him, cupping Sora’s cheek. His hands weren’t as smooth as they once were, they’d been turned coarse from working the ropes. That sent a thrill of pride through Sora. It was a mark, that Riku was a pirate. He’d done that.

“I love you,” Sora continued. He stared at every part of Riku’s face, that he knew as well as his own now, just to make his point clear. It was half an apology, and he hoped his eyes were saying that. “So much.”

“I love you too, you goose.” Riku’s thumb brushed Sora’s lips. His fingers rubbed against his hairline.

“Your goose.” Sora shifted closer – as much as he could when he was still in so much pain.

“My goose,” Riku agreed. “My silly, self-sacrificial goose.”

“I had to save her. Them. Besides,” Sora paused, feeling himself smile. He ducked his chin, so that his lips pressed against the pad of Riku’s thumb. “I knew my prince would save me.”

He couldn’t tell if Riku sighed, or chuckled, but his lips pressed against Sora’s. Sparks still flew at the touch – Sora still felt himself losing his head.

“My lion.” Riku whispered against his mouth.

“Quote something.”

Riku paused. His fingers combed through Sora’s tangled hair. “Nothing feels enough.”

Sora snorted. “ _Goose_.”

That time, Riku did chuckle. He pulled Sora even closer, so that they were flush against each other and Sora was safely tucked into Riku’s warm body. He could fall back asleep, like this, knowing that he was safe and Riku was safe. But he couldn’t, because then he would be asleep and not aware of Riku.

And it wasn’t just them who were safe. There was –

“Where's Kairi?” Sora tilted his head up so fast that he clipped into Riku’s chin. Riku swore, sitting up and pressing a hand to his jaw. “And Terra? And –”

Sora tried to sit up too, despite the mighty protest from his wound. Riku caught his shoulders, and pushed him back down onto the hay easily.

“No,” he said. “You’re to stay here and rest. Aqua’s orders.”

Riku watched him for a moment. Then his eyes softened again, and he brushed the hair out of Sora’s eyes. He lay still, waiting. Another pigeon had joined the other, and they fluttered against the little glass window.

“There,” he said, pushing himself up now that Riku’s grip had slacked. “I've rested.”

“Sora.” Riku pressed him back down. “No.”

Sora tried for a frown, but it was more of a pout. Partly because it was so hard to frown at Riku, but partly because he knew Riku melted under it.

“But, I,” he stammered, pushing against Riku’s shoulders to try to get up. The throbbing turned into a white hot pain in his stomach, but he ignored it. His hands pushed on Riku’s hair, and then he froze. “Your neck.”

There was a ring of purple on Riku’s neck. Purples, and reds and some browns mixed in, like a splash of watercolour paint gone wrong. It stood out lividly against his pale skin, with clear round finger marks either side his throat.

“My mother.” Riku winced as he pressed his fingers over the bruises, but he looked strangely calm. “A leaving present, I suppose.”

“Leaving?”

“They arrested her,” Riku said, slowly. He was looking at the window now. “I'm sure on grounds of treason.”

“Oh.”

Riku stood, off of the bed, taking a breath. It seemed a huge effort to focus back on Sora – to give him a small smile.

A small smile was still enough to send his heart racing.

“I can find Kairi, and bring her to you,” Riku said.

Kairi. Kairi was alive.

“I'd like that.” Sora smiled. “But kiss me again first.”

Riku raised an eyebrow at him, but stepped back to the bed. He leant down, hair falling forward in a curtain of tangled silver.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

He pressed their lips together just as a whine came from the back of Sora’s throat. Riku went to pull away, after a moment, but Sora wrapped his arms around his neck and held him there a moment longer. Another moment.

And another.

Until Riku was chuckling against him and gently untangling himself. He was really smiling now, his cheeks flushed pink and it may only have been a few days but Sora had missed him. Missed seeing him so much.

“I’ll be back soon, dove,” Riku said.

And then he crossed the tiny chamber, and disappeared. Sora could hear his footsteps on the stairs, moving slowly.

He could get up, if he wanted. But he couldn’t follow Riku without being placed right back where he was. Anyway, it hurt too much to move. His fingers trailed to his belly, to find his costume torn. For a moment, he hesitated, then pressed under the fabric to find –

Bandages. Sora felt along his stomach, but all he could feel was bandages. Slightly damp in a thin line just underneath his naval, but that was it.

The pigeons kept fluttering against the window.

He tried to remember last night – the ritual – but it was a blur. An angry, scared blur, especially when he had seen the silvery tears track down Kairi’s cheeks.

Sora had found Kairi. Alive. After three years of searching, he had found her and he had saved her. It sent relief through him, lessening a weight on his shoulders that he’d grown so used to. It had been so long, that he had forgotten what it had felt like, to not be worrying about her.

But it wasn’t a joyful relief. Instead, this relief felt exhausted. Felt like it should have been a much more exciting thing that it was. His quest was over. He’d sailed into a storm, he’d sailed across the world, and he’d crossed the land to get to her.

His heart just couldn’t conjure up the happiness that it should be.

The sun was bright – brighter now that the pigeons had finally left the windowsill. And Sora hadn’t even realised that he’d been drifting off to sleep again, until the door opening made his eyelids snap up again.

There she was. The sunlight catching her hair and turning it red-gold. Kairi’s skin had always been gold, but she wasn’t naturally dark like him. However long she had spent in the sun had taken the colour from her skin. She was thin too – her face had a certain hollowness to it and she had a general spindly appearance, as though she was going to break at any time.

But she was smiling as she rushed to Sora’s side. She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it tightly.

“You fatwit!” She was holding his hand so firmly that he could feel pins and needles beginning to form already. “Do you know how worried I was about you? How could you?”

“I had to do something,” Sora said. He was smiling, because he had missed her voice. He had missed her – that was something that he could still hold on to. He’d missed her voice when she was cross and the line between her brows when she frowned and he’d missed _her_. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“The wound was non-fatal.” Riku was still at the door, hovering as though he wasn’t sure whether to stay or go. “Esmeralda said that it was one of the safest places to get stabbed.” Sora grinned at him, and had just opened his mouth to say that had been his plan all along, when Riku continued. “Not that you knew that, of course.”

He wanted to tell Riku that he preferred it when he was kissing him – that he was meant to be on Sora’s side, if he loved him so much. But he caught himself, glancing to Kairi. No. He couldn’t say that in front of her.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Sora said, forcing his fingers to squeeze Kairi’s. “Ever since you disappeared, I’ve been looking for you. Everyone said – well that you were…but I knew you were still out there. And me, Donald and Goofy – and Riku – we all set out to look for you.”

“We met,” Kairi said, and there was something unreadable on her face. “He’s from England.”

“Aye. Bristol.”

She nodded.

“It was a week before a storm was due, and we were planning to sail straight into it,” Sora continued. And from there, he found himself telling her everything, in detail, only breaking off to turn to Riku and ask, “Naminé! Where’s Naminé?”

“She’s resting,” Riku said. “Like you should be.”

Sora nodded and decided to disregard Riku’s advice – partly just to see Riku shake his head, trying to fight back a smile – and continued with his story.

When he reached the end, Riku had helped prop him up against the wall and sat next to him. Kairi perched on it too, watching him intently. She smiled, the further he got, her eyes glittering.

“It sounds as though you’ve had quite the adventure,” Kairi said.

“Aye, it was.” Sora looked to Riku, who’d been quiet whilst he talked. He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “But what about you, Kairi? What happened? We know that you left with Hook – but I can’t understand why.”

Kairi shuffled, and smoothed out her skirts. It looked as though one of the gypsies must have donated it, to make up for the bloodstained shift.

“I left with Hook,” she started. And took a long breath, before she seemed able to continue. “Because he said that Wendy – you know, Wendy from the big estate – he said that she had been kidnapped. And that he wanted to get her back, but that he needed an extra pair of hands.”

“And you believed him?” Sora cried. “Since when did Hook want to help anyone?”

Kairi smiled, as though she was trying to do so through great pain to herself. “He said that he only cared about the ransom. Peter and his crew had led a raid against them a week or so before, and they _were_ short of hands, Sora. And I liked Wendy – very much – I wanted to help her if I could. It was – it seemed like the only opportunity I would ever have to sail for myself. I didn’t _want_ to be the girl who waited for you.”

Sora blinked. He’d thought that had made Kairi happy. That she enjoyed life in Havanna well enough without him – even more so with him there.

Kairi was blinking too. Quickly, looking down so that her fringe hid her face. Her hair had gotten long – almost as long as Naminé’s was.

He wished Naminé were here. He seemed to understand her better.

“Especially since –” Kairi’s voice wobbled. “Since I seemed to be doing such an awful job of being your sweetheart.”

Riku stiffened next to Sora. His eyes were on Kairi.

“You were sweethearts?” he asked, and Sora heard his voice shake ever so slightly.

Kairi smiled and made a soft noise under her breath that might have been a laugh.

“Never officially,” she said. “But it made so much sense, didn’t it, Sora? After all, we had grown up together – we were best friends.” She swallowed. “Tell me, if you married me, would you still sleep with lads behind my back?”

“No!” Sora felt his face colour. This had been a bad idea, he realised – it had been a bad idea to have Riku and Kairi in the same room. With Kairi talking about sweethearts and their plans for the future.

Because, he released with a sudden clarity, he’d hated that plan. The idea of settling down on that little island with the same person he’d grown up with felt – lacking somehow. Felt stifling.

“I would never do that, Kairi,” he said.

Her eyes flickered to Riku. And he realised that at some point, he’d tangled their hands together. His thumb twitched, and he wondered whether he should pull away.

“No.” Kairi shook her head. She was still wearing at sad smile. “You wouldn’t, Sora. And it would mean trapping you in a cage. I couldn’t do that to you, not when you were so dear to me.”

She had not said ‘love,’ and Sora realised that he was thankful for that. Because love seemed to hold such romance. Love was something that he knew now – it was what he had with the boy sat next to him.

It wasn’t the same as what he felt for Kairi.

“You were dear to me too,” he said. “Are. You are dear to me.”

Kairi’s eyes softened. And, after a moment of hesitation, she reached out and took Sora’s hand gently.

“I _had_ to go and have my own adventure,” she said. “So I went on Hook’s ship. And he’s not…that bad.” At Sora’s incredulously raised eyebrows, she shook her head, as if to empathise her point. “He has a temper, and he runs a strict ship, but it’s fair. He never laid a hand on me and never treated me as anything less just because I was a lady. I enjoyed it, sailing around the Caribbean for a few months…” Her smile finally fell, then, and she looked to her hands in her lap. “Then we sailed further out, and we found Captain Barbossa’s ship. I thought you might be there, and I could explain, but you weren’t.”

“No.”

“Wendy was, though.” Kairi smoothed out her skirt again, carefully. “And I was very glad to see her, because even though I loved sailing, I was starting to miss Havanna. And fresh water.” She swallowed. “Barbossa told Hook that Wendy wasn’t the girl he was looking for and to take her back. So he did, but then he told me I couldn’t leave. It had been…maybe six months, at that point.”

“He kidnapped you,” Sora said.

Kairi paused. “He didn’t treat me any differently. We sailed as normal for six more months, landing at ports up and down South America. He seemed to be looking for someone. Someone he couldn’t find.”

“That’s strange,” Riku said. “You’d think the pocketwatches would have told him where to go.”

“Hook didn’t have a pocketwatch,” Sora said. “It was eaten by a crocodile.”

“Well, we found Barbossa, again, eventually, and Hook said I had to go with him.” Kairi frowned, smoothing out her already smooth skirts. “That was when he threatened me. He held his sword to my throat to get me to leave.”

Sora couldn’t believe it. Barbossa had seen Kairi. He had known, at least, how Kairi had disappeared, and he hadn’t mentioned it. Hadn’t even taunted Sora with the information. It showed, he supposed, just how secret the whole operation had been.

“They met someone else – I know now that it was Lady Maleficent, but I don’t know where we were. I was taken somewhere blindfolded. I stayed there for…a while…with two of Barbossa’s crew. You might know them – one had a wooden eye?”

“Aye.” Whilst Sora was relieved it had been those two – who were probably the most harmless of the men on that ship – he couldn’t be happy. Guilt was curling in his stomach – that he had spent so long wasting time, when Kairi had been in danger.

“I got sick,” Kairi continued. “A very bad fever, but I suspect that they were slipping something into my food. A doctor kept coming – and taking my blood. She was testing it – if I was one of the girls they needed…I guess I could have been there a year, but it’s…hard to remember…I know that I was taken here a month or two ago, and here’s where you found me.”

Sora felt awful – like the insides of a rotten apple. Mushy and bruised. They had been laughing on deck and drinking every night – they had been having fun whilst Kairi had been slowly poisoned and used for her blood.

“I’m _so_ sorry.” It was all he could say, even though it was so hard to get the words out. “I should have – I should have found you sooner.”

Kairi stared at their joined hands.

“I didn’t want you to find me,” she said, quietly. “Not at first. Because I wanted to be on my own and leave Havanna behind. It was only when I realised I’d made a mistake – and that was a year and a bit in…that I was glad I left you that note.” She squeezed Sora’s hand. “The one with the riddle. It was only about an old legend I had heard. That the chest at the heart of a storm will lead you to the one that you love.”

Riku stiffened next to him and Sora’s heart tightened. He wasn’t sure who to feel worse about.

Kairi looked up. Her eyes sparkled with tears that she hadn’t released.

“I thought it was an ultimatum. That if you really loved me, then you would follow it and come find me…I didn’t realise that it was _any_ kind of love.”

Sora blinked.

And Kairi gently slid her hands out of his grip.

“You do love me, or you wouldn’t have found Naminé,” she said, and took hold of her own hand. “But it’s not the way I feel about you…and it’s not the kind you have now.”

She looked at Riku. For the first time, properly. Of course she knew, Sora realised. They had all but said their marriage vows in that chamber. And even if they hadn’t heard, he was starting to suspect that it was obvious from the stares and the slight touches – from _them_ being them.

Kairi took a breath, as though she was going to say something to Riku.

Then she stood. And brushed her skirts down once more, and murmured, “I need to check on Alice.”

Sora felt stunned. Not because he didn’t believe what Kairi had said.

But because it all made so much sense.

*

Cinderella sat in Aqua’s lap, and murmured that she was “her pirate hero,” whenever she wasn’t pressing kisses to her cheek and her neck.

The Prince sat opposite them, but seemed to turn a blind eye to it all.

France was strange.

They had left Notre Dame as soon as it had been safe to transport Sora, and were staying in Versailles palace again. Cinderella had opened her home to the ladies too, allowing them to stay there for as long as they needed before they made their way home.

As far as he knew, Kairi had not told Sora if she would be going home or not.

They sat in the drawing room, just as opulent as everywhere else in the palace. Riku was playing backgammon against Sora, whilst Naminé refereed. The pirate was still in a wheelchair, and his tan skin was pale from blooding the wound to purify it.

And of course, Sora hated that wheelchair. He had admitted that he would rather be bed bound and served on all day than pushed around like a small child. The compromise had been that Riku always carried him from the chair to the bed, which always resulted in Sora thoroughly attacking Riku’s neck in kisses. To the point where he pulled Riku’s cravat loose with his teeth and Riku had almost dropped him on the floor, his heart racing.

“You cut your hair,” Sora mumbled, pushing a piece into place dejectedly. He rested his cheek in his hand, glancing at Riku.

He looked every part a rich Duke’s bored son, especially in his borrowed clothes. Riku was surprised at how much he liked that idea – liked the idea of meeting him at a party and the two of them escaping from high society to a secluded cupboard. Liked the fantasy of seeing him at galas and political events and flirting their way through a conversation.

“It was getting in the way,” he forced himself to reply.

Riku had asked Aqua to chop it, somewhat spontaneously, that morning. She had agreed, before Cinderella had stepped in, with scissors in favour of a knife. She had guided Aqua’s hands on his hair and he’d felt like a third wheel.

It had been chopped back to chin length. The length it had been when he had first met Sora.

“I miss it.” Sora looked up at him with sulky eyes.

“It’s still long enough to tie back,” Riku replied. It was in a short, neat ponytail now, and he had caught Sora staring at it.

“You’re just missing…” Sora gestured with a lazy hand. “An extra air of mischief.”

Riku laughed, and made his move, barely paying attention to the board.

“Although…” Sora looked back at him. His eyes moved slowly over Riku’s face. Hungrily. Like a cat lapping at a bowl of cream and making it last. It was enough to send Riku’s stomach to jelly. “I do like seeing those pretty eyes more.”

Riku needed to breathe. But it was hard to breathe when his face still felt so hot. How could Sora still do this to him? After everything they’d been through, it seemed easy for him to turn Riku into a stuttering, embarrassed mess.

“Sora, it’s your move,” Naminé said.

Sora obliged.

Riku made his move quickly in return, and the pieces quickly fell into his favour. He won the game quickly, and sat back. This felt tedious. And it was. They were just waiting until Sora was well enough to make the trip to England.

To Duke Selbourn’s estate.

Sora sat back too, and sighed. But there was a glint in his eye as he looked up at Riku, “rematch this evening in my room?”

Riku smirked, but it felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. “Aye, I could do that…will you be taking the first move?”

Sora raised his eyebrows.

Naminé watched the two of them with a puzzled expression. Then she sighed too.

“More flirting?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, Naminé,” Sora said. He reached forward in his chair, and took both of her hands. “It’s just – I missed Riku – so much.”

“Did you miss me?” she asked.

“Oh, even more than I did him,” Sora exclaimed. He brought her knuckles to his lips. “But I didn’t think you would appreciate me showering you in passionate kisses.”

“No.” Naminé shook her head, her gold hair catching the lamplight. “I wouldn’t.”

Riku laughed, and leant back in the chair. Relief had flowed through him, the moment that he had been told Sora was going to live, and it had not stopped flowing since. They were fine. They were safe. They had made it through all of this and now – a part of him wished for this forever. For them to have every day to lounge around and not worry about being seen, not worry about anyone going missing.

Live the life Riku had always dreamt he would have, without his mother.

His mother. She was to be executed tomorrow, on grounds of high treason. His stomach squirmed at the thought. It felt as though he was being freed from shackles – from his old life for good.

But she was his mother and he had brought into her honeyed voice and soft touches for so many years. He had cared about her, was desperate to please her for so long – that he couldn’t be glad to see her go. He didn’t want her in his life, but he didn’t want her dead.

If she lived, she would have hunted them, forever. He knew that.

Riku didn’t know what he wanted.

“What’s the plan?” Naminé asked. “After Sora gets better?”

She was still looking pale, ever since they had ridden from Notre Dame. Though she didn’t need a wheelchair, like Sora, she still rested often, and it was the new thing to consume Riku’s worries.

“England.” Sora’s voice was firm. “Kairi’s going the same way, she’s taking one of the ladies back. And I want to pay a visit to Duke Selbourn.”

“What?” Riku stared at him.

Sora smiled. He leant across, and took Riku’s hand. Flipped it over and ran his finger over his palm.

“The truth doesn’t bother me so much now,” he said. “Not now that…well, I’m not tied down to anything.”

He meant Kairi. Sora wasn’t bound to come back for Kairi. They’d spoken about love, and Riku had tried to be understanding, but it had felt as though his heart was being squeezed until it bled. He was so full of that – love – for Sora – that hearing someone else say it _hurt_.

“And there’s nothing to tie you down either,” Sora continued. “We can learn the truth and then…” He grinned. That same lopsided grin that he gave Riku in that pub, all those weeks ago. The grin that had started Riku falling for Sora. He had not stopped falling since.

“The world is ours, Master Riku.”

Riku let go of Sora’s hand. He had to if he wanted to step around the table, take his face in his hands, and kiss him senseless. Sora giggled underneath him, but kissed him back. Slid his tongue into Riku’s mouth and curled his fingers in his cravat.

“Nothing to tie you down indeed,” an affronted voice said.

Riku pulled away – slowly and regretfully – from Sora to say Naminé raising an eyebrow at him.

Then she shook her head, and smiled. “That’s true, I suppose.”

“Naminé?” Riku asked.

She looked more like a porcelain doll, instead of a girl, and she looked at them both.

“I know what I am,” she said. “I’m memories. That’s what’s kept in a chest at the centre of a storm. Memories. I was made because Sora wanted to find Kairi, and now that he has…” She took a breath, and it seemed to rattle her whole frame. The more radiant she seemed to look, the less she seemed able to move. “I’m not made to last.”

“No.” Sora went to stand, and Riku instinctively pushed him back down into the wheelchair. “Naminé, you’re not leaving –”

“I have to,” Naminé said. She reached out, and took one of their hands each. Her grip was weak, and as Riku squeezed hers desperately, he realised how small and thin it really was. “I’m not even meant to be on land this long.”

“You can’t go,” Riku whispered. It was hard to talk suddenly.

“I will, as soon as we reach the channel.” Naminé squeezed their hands, very lightly.

“But how-”

“There are some things you just know.” Naminé realised them and leant back. She was still wearing her captain’s coat over her petticoat and stays, but somehow she made it look like the finest lady’s clothes.

Riku had heard her say those words a dozen times before. They had always made him smile, but now that bleeding heart feeling was back.

“Well, I know that I’ll miss you, Naminé,” Sora said. “I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too.” Riku could only echo the sentiment.

Naminé smiled. That smile that he knew so well.

“I know. Now are you going to teach me the rules of backgammon before I go, or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): It felt like such a long week between uploads!  
> But yeah I don't have any notes for this chapter. I can only thank you all again - so much - for all of the support that you've shown this fic! I've really enjoyed writing it so I'm so happy that people are enjoying reading it too!  
> Do leave any comments as well - it's always nice to know people are still keeping up with this. <3 xx


	26. The Farewells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): This chapter contains executions - not in detail but - you know - I thought I'd give a warning.

There was a stinging wind in the air, but aside from that, it was a day like any other. Sora was at Riku’s side – his hand in his.

“Are you sure?” he murmured.

Riku wasn’t. They were stood on one of the balconies surrounding the square, watching over the thronging mass of people below. Shouts and screams filled the air as they got more and more excited for the executions. Oranges were being sold, as though this was a show. That was what turned his stomach; that this was entertainment.

This was his mother’s death.

And he wanted to be inside, with Naminé and Cinderella. He didn’t want to have to see this. But he had to. It was a sense of duty, though he couldn’t explain it.

Riku didn’t answer Sora. He leant against the balcony.

The Prince was on the wooden stage, waiting impassively. Maybe that was what had gotten the crowd so excited.

“I’m sure.” That was Kairi. She stood with them, the wind blowing her hair so that it looked like flames. Like the flames that would be lighting the pyre on the hour. Her face was stony. “I need to see her gone.”

She had not been sleeping well. Her skin was pale and her eyes were sunken. Riku imagined that they were all having similar nightmares. Nightmares involving girls in white and lots of blood.

Survivors guilt, Terra had said, when he found Riku wandering the gardens in the early hours of the morning. He had needed air.

“You feel guilty for the two girls who died,” Terra had explained. “That you didn’t save them. You did everything you could, Riku.”

“No,” Riku said. He’d stared at the moon and thought about how calm the girls had been – how brave. “There was more. I could have stopped her.”

It had been quiet for so long that Riku jumped when Terra put a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes seemed almost black in the night.

“You saved five girls,” he said. “And Sora. And yourself.”

“But not everyone.”

Terra took his other shoulder. His hands warm against the chill of the air.

“If you keep looking at what you can’t change, then you’ll lose sight of what you have.”

Which had stunned Riku into silence. He had turned the words over in his mind, until they were well-worn, like a pebble in the sea. There was so much he had now. The claws of a future that would slowly poison him were gone. He was free.

At what cost? It wasn’t so simple to apply that advice.

There was a sudden cheer from below and Riku saw the door on the far side of the courtyard was now open. A tiny black square in the brickwork. Two figures were being led by a tall, wide man.

Riku wondered if it would have been easier to recognise his mother if he was closer. As such, out of her black dresses, with her hair down and loose, her face not pale with powder, she seemed like any woman. Only the way she walked, with her head high, separated her. Out of his uniform, Governor Frollo also seemed anonymous.

Sora took Riku’s hand, and squeezed it, even though anyone in the crowd could spot them if they looked up.

Riku did not move his away. He stared at the two figures until his vision blurred.

His mother was being led to the pyre, Governor Frollo to the noose.

“She wanted an heir.” The words came out of Riku as he realised them – it was something he hadn’t thought about before. “She got what she wanted.”

“What do you mean?” Sora had turned away from the preparations. He looked nervous – as if he had been asking himself if he was sure, and not Riku or Kairi.

“I’ll inherit the estate,” Riku said. “I’ll inherit everything.”

Sora peeled Riku’s hand from the rail, and held it tightly.

The crowds cheering increased.

The Prince nodded.

The fire was lit. The trapdoor was pulled down.

Riku felt nothing.

Or, rather, he felt everything. Guilt, relief, anger, sorrow, grief, satisfaction. Everything burst up from his stomach at once like roaring flames and it was so much – too much – and he wasn’t sure if he was completely numb, or completely full.

Sora pressed his face into Riku’s arm.

But he couldn’t move to comfort him.

After all, this was what his mother had threatened. That she would hang Sora. He’d been told he would hang so many times and now he was seeing another man doing so. Seeing the undignified jerks and baying of the crowd. That was what they had gained, Riku realised.

They had gained their lives.

*

Sora was worried.

He still felt faint and as though he was going to heave up the rich breakfast they had barely touched. But that didn’t matter, because Riku was still staring out of the window – in the direction of England – with a blank expression.

Since the execution, he hadn’t spoken. He had barely looked at Sora – hadn’t moved to touch him.

And what could he say? What was there to say?

Sora stood. Stepped around the tiny, low table to the side of Riku’s armchair. He took his hand, and turned it over, but it was limp and heavy in his hand. His fingers were cold, and they didn’t twitch as he traced the pads of his fingers of the lines on Riku’s palm.

“Riku?” Sora murmured, bending forward slightly. There was nothing in the gardens. Nothing to be watching. “Dove?”

Riku didn’t move. He was like a statue. Like something the Greeks would have sculpted from marble. And this was all finally over, so he couldn’t lose Riku too.

Sora tucked the silvery strands that had fallen from Riku’s tie behind his ear, searching for the words. They were easy to remember, once he’d gotten Naminé to help him with the reading.

He pressed his lips against Riku’s ear, and the words seemed to find themselves falling from his tongue.

“Like the base Indian threw a pearl away,” he whispered. “Richer than all his tribe. Of one whose subdued eyes –” Riku’s fingers twitched, and Sora smiled. “Albeit unused to the melting mood –”

Riku’s arm went around Sora’s neck, and pulled him forward – so that he fell in a tangle of limbs forward and in a bundle on Riku’s lap. He shifted, so that his legs were draped over Riku and his head was on his shoulder.

“Unuséd,” Riku said. “You say it with an accent.”

“Why?”

“For the iam.”

“What’s an iam?”

Riku shook his head. His fingers grazed Sora’s fringe out of his eyes. “And you call yourself a Duke’s son.”

“A Duke’s bastard.” Sora toyed with a piece of silver hair.

“Every son of a Duke I’ve met has been a bastard,” Riku muttered.

Sora smiled. “Oh, really?”

“One sent me a letter after a party to tell me that my kissing wasn’t up to his standards. And that I was never to speak to him again, lest his father find out.”

“Well.” Sora turned Riku’s face towards him, and his heart leapt as his eyes focused. He was looking at Sora, and his eyes caught the light. “He was so very wrong about that, my love.”

Riku’s lips twitched. He kissed Sora’s forehead, gently.

“When did you learn Shakespeare?” he asked.

Sora continued playing with the strands of silver hair. Gold and silver, he thought, and smiled to himself.

“Aqua had a battered copy,” he said. “And Naminé helped me with the words. I wanted to impress you.”

“You did that a long time ago.” Riku kissed Sora’s mouth. “The first night we met, I think.”

Sora scoffed and looked away, but Riku turned his face back, gently.

“Just by your confidence. Sailing a boat with a duck and a dog.”

“And a mouse and a rat,” Sora added.

Riku’s expression softened so much it was as though he was melting.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I think I loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Sora tucked himself under Riku’s chin. He traced his collarbone through his shirt.

“Oh, you felt nothing for me?” Riku’s mouth was in Sora’s hair, his arms around him. Safe. He only felt safe in Riku’s arms.

“I thought you were bloody gorgeous,” Sora replied. “But I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

Riku’s hands squeezed his waist. “Liar.”

“Not everyone’s as sappy as you.”

But Sora was smiling. His chest was warm – he felt so warm and so happy.

And if he was honest, he couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with the boy he was pressed against.

*

Aqua was taking a long time to say goodbye to Cinderella.

They were entwined on the steps of the palace and every time it looked as though Cinderella was finally going to let her go, she pulled her back for another kiss.

“Just so you know,” Naminé murmured. “This is what it’s like for me, all the time.”

Riku apologised. Sora couldn’t. She spoke as though it was easy to keep his hands off of Riku.

Well, it was, when Kairi was there reminding him of what he wasn’t. That he had promised her a normal, safe future without listening to what _she_ wanted, and then couldn’t keep his word on that.

She seemed much better now than she had when they had found her. There was colour in her cheeks and she was starting to really smile again. But there was still a barrier between her, and Sora. And one that he couldn’t figure out how to get through.

Aqua finally pulled away from Cinderella, just to take her hands and kiss the back of them a final, _final_ time, before she headed to the carriage. Goofy, sat on Sora’s lap and panting heavily, tried to jump out of the window when he saw her.

“I’ll stop by on the way back from England!” Aqua called to Cinderella, as she pulled herself into the driver’s seat of the carriage, next to Terra.

“That better be a promise!” Cinderella called back.

They waved, and then the carriage lurched forward. Away from Versailles, and up the road leading north.

England. They were finally headed to England and to find out the truth about who Sora was. It felt meaningless, still. Looking around the carriage – at Donald on Naminé’s lap, at Riku with the King on his shoulder, and at Kairi – he knew who he was. He was the Captain of the Highwind.

And he wasn’t a half-bad pirate, after all.

But a part of him was still curious – the part that needed something to chase. He needed to know where he had come from and how he had ended up in Havanna.

What was the life that he could have had?

“I asked the Prince what he thought about his wife and Aqua,” Naminé said. It was eerie, seeing her sat next to Kairi. They had the same face, the same body, but there was something distinctly different about them. About the way they sat and the way they talked. “He said he was glad that his wife had a close friend.”

Sora grinned and scratched Goofy behind the ears. He panted, breathing hot air on everyone in the carriage. Riku pushed his face away, but he was smiling too.

“You’ve kept the animals,” Kairi said. She held her fingers out to Goofy, who sniffed them happily.

“I had to,” Sora replied. “They’re outcasts. They belong on the Highwind.”

“What do you think of them?” She turned her attention to Riku. “Animals on a pirate ship.”

There was a strange air between them, too. A hesitancy to really talk to each other.

Riku paused. He didn’t look at Sora.

“I didn’t understand it at first,” he admitted. “But Sora saved them…you don’t let go of something you’ve saved so easily.”

He seemed to realise what he had said and looked away from her. It had not been easy to save Kairi, and yet he was letting her go.

She caught his eye then. The curtains were drawn in the carriage, to keep some of the heat in because there was still a sharp wind in the air, and the sunlight cast patterns across her pale skin. Turning it back into the gold skin that he had known for so many years.

Kairi smiled.

And they had always understood each other without many words. It had always felt as though they were two parts of a whole, so who could blame him for being so confused about how he felt? But he knew, now, that she was telling him he wasn’t letting her go at all.

She was choosing to leave. Because that was what she wanted.

And after so many years of not listening to her, he had to know.

He smiled back.

And then spotted that the young British girl’s hand was wrapped tightly into Kairi’s. She was called Alice, Sora had learnt, and though she was prim with proper manners he had taken a liking to her. When she had seen Donald, she had made a large fuss over him – much to the duck’s delight – and had confided in Sora that she had held tea parties for her two rabbits – one white, one brown, often.

“I know that it is tremendously silly to do such a thing,” she had said, and the long word had sounded so strange coming out of her mouth.

Sora had grinned – the crooked one that he knew disarmed Riku so easily. “I think it’s brilliant. A brilliant idea.”

She had smiled at him, then, and her guard had gone down. She had shuffled closer, kicking up her blue skirts as if they were a nuisance, and Sora had been reminded of Naminé. A surge of affection rose in his chest.

“My mother would go round the bend if she knew,” she had murmured, conspiratorially. “But once, a mouse came scurrying across the floor, and I gave it crumbs of cheese so that it could join in.”

“I have a mouse that brings me food.” Sora chose not to say rat, because he knew that the distinction was very important to ladies.

“It sounds mad,” Alice continued. “But every time we had a tea party after that, the mouse came back. Like he knew.”

Sora looked at her, as serious as he could be. “Mice are very, _very_ smart, Miss Alice.”

Then he had introduced her to King Mickey, and she had been delighted.

Now, he raised an eyebrow at Kairi. She had noticed him noticing their joined hands, and her cheeks flushed pink. She shrugged her shoulders, slightly, and Sora understood. It had been the exact reaction he had when Aqua had been looking at him and Riku.

Maybe he hadn’t been the only one confused by relationships.

*

They stayed in an inn overnight. And Sora was relieved to get back to straw mattresses and to switch fine clothes for rough-spun ones. The whole place stunk of smoke and alcohol and he hadn’t realised that he’d missed it so much.

He shared a room with Riku, because of course he had to. It was small, with only the mattress and a small, bedside table, but that was fine. It reminded him of the Highwind.

What was less fine was peeling away the bandages around his stomach. He was well enough to travel, but that didn’t mean that his wound had healed. Before, it had always been someone else tending him – Aqua or Cinderella – and he hadn’t looked.

Riku’s hands found his waist, turned him gently as he fingered the material there, trying to gather the courage to see. He looked up to see those blue-green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Less like jewels, no that he wasn’t surrounded by decadence, and more like the sea. Less the rich boy and more the pirate.

Without a word, Riku unravelled the bandages. There was a deftness to his fingers, as though he had done this several times before. Sora watched his face, waiting for the moment this his eyes would widen in horror, or the sharp gasp as he saw the wound.

But there was only gentle concern, that stayed even as the bandages coiled to the ground like a discarded ribbon from a present.

“Bad?” Sora murmured.

“Not the worst.” Riku glanced up. “Look.”

“I…”

Riku smiled. “Darling, look.”

And he must have known that the pet name would make Sora duck his chin down, smiling. And as soon as he did that, he saw the wound on his stomach. Not quite a wound, but not quite a scar, yet. It had half healed, raising the skin around it so that it stood like a mountain range.

His fingers shook as he traced the short, angry line. Only the width of the dagger but now it seemed huge.

“It’ll scar,” Riku told him, with the air of practice. “But considering how bad it could have been...”

“Considering how beat up I am already.”

Riku’s hands moved – from his waist to his cheeks and Sora felt suddenly vulnerable. He pressed himself against Riku’s shirt, just so that he could catch some of the warmth seeping through.

“And yet it’s done nothing against your looks.”

Sora scoffed. He caught Riku’s wrists, but he didn’t have the resolve to pull them away.

“And what if that scar was on my face?”

“Then you would be ruggedly handsome.” Riku’s thumb traced his mouth, following the curve of Sora’s disbelieving smile. “Pirates need battle scars, Captain.”

“This one.” Sora pressed his fingers against it. It seemed to pulse under the pressure. “Is the only one to come from a battle.”

“Then you’re doing better than I am.” Riku released Sora, just to push his own fringe away from his forehead. He ducked his head, towards the light, so that a shiny scar on his temple caught the light.

Sora’s hand went to it immediately. As if his touch could wipe it away.

Riku smiled, and his arm went around Sora’s waist. His hand was flat out on his back – over the ribbons of scars.

“But I’m starting to think,” he continued, burying his face in Sora’s shoulder. “That battles don’t have to have swords. I’m starting to think…that anything you can walk away from…is a victory.”

The words stung Sora’s chest. Knocked out the air and made him ache. All of his ache with a feeling that he couldn’t put into words. But he knew that it was a good hurt. That holding Riku against him helped to make the hurt good.

He remembered the noose that had hung Governor Frollo. And it had not been hard to imagine himself there. Since he had worked on ships, he’d been made all too aware that the punishment for piracy was hanging. That was how it would end. Everyone had said that. So often that he had almost felt the rope around his neck, but had never imagined it would be – like that. Undignified and desperate and – unwatchable.

But it had not been him. He was alive. Riku was alive. They were both alive despite everyone’s plans.

And he wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to believe it entirely.

*

They arrived on the coast much too quickly for Riku’s liking. Suddenly they were unloading from the carriage to find a boat that would carry them across the channel – to England. To Sora’s heritage and Riku’s empty estates.

And it meant saying goodbye to Naminé.

“Six months ago, I wouldn’t have believed that she could exist,” Riku told Terra, as he helped to unload the cases from the back of the carriage. “Are mermaids real? And sirens?”

Terra smiled, though he was still focused on the work in front of him. “Stories come from somewhere, Little Prince. Mermaids might just be dolphins, but that doesn’t mean that all magic is make belief.”

That seemed sound logic to Riku. Terra always had sound logic, and he always seemed to know what to do. He was everything that an adult should be.

“I’ll miss you.” Riku put the case on the flagstones with a thud, and turned to Terra.

“My offer still stands.” Terra finally faced him, a case in either hand. “For both of you. I’d be honoured to have you on the Wayfinder for good.”

Riku shook his head, finding himself smiling. It was a bittersweet pain in his chest, because he knew that he had to say no, even if he had loved those weeks on the Wayfinder.

“Sora is my Captain,” he said. “And the Highwind is his ship.”

“I figured.” There was a hint of sorrow on Terra’s features. The same he had when he first offered Riku a place on his ship. “We’ll deliver you back to it.”

“Riku.” Sora took his elbow, his face flushed. “Naminé is going. Now.”

He looked to Terra, his question on his face, who nodded, then he followed Sora’s lead through the busy docks. They had only stopped in a tiny port town, and how was Naminé going to disappear into the sea with so many people around?

Easily, Riku realised, as he followed Sora down rotting wooden steps and onto a small, grey beach. It did not stretch far, but there was no one on it. After all, it was Winter and it was starting to rain.

Naminé stood underneath the pier, in a white shift, just like when they had first opened the treasure chest and found her. But that seemed like a different lifetime now – Riku couldn’t remember not caring for her as dearly as a sister. He loved Naminé – and he ran the rest of the way to her, clutching her hands.

“You can’t go,” he said.

Naminé smiled, but her eyes were sparkling with tears. It made her cheeks and nose cherry red. More alive than she had in days, now that she was near the water.

“I have to,” she replied. She held her other hand to Sora, who was just catching up, and looked as panic-stricken as Riku felt. “If I stay any longer, then I’ll wither away, and won’t turn to seafoam.”

“You’re really going to?” Sora’s free hand slipped into Riku’s and this felt right – the three of them joined in a circle felt _right_.

“I don’t know.” Naminé looked down at the sand underneath them. “I don’t know what will happen, but I know that I’ll leave in some way.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

Naminé hesitated over Sora’s question, her dark eyelashes fluttering slightly.

“It’s not something I want to waste time worrying about,” she finally replied, in a voice as soft as the rolling waves. “I want to spend my time saying goodbye to you, instead.”

Sora made a sound in the back of his throat and then pulled her into a ferocious hug. She seemed to disappear under him, almost knocked off of her feet.

“I’ll miss you so much,” his face was buried in her golden hair. “You were the best first mate ever, Naminé.”

“Hey.” Riku didn’t have the heart to start bickering, but it made Naminé giggle, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her hand. That was good – he wanted to remember her smiling.

She took both of Sora’s hands, and held them firmly. “You were the best captain I’ve ever had. And I don’t need to remember anything to know that. I hope that I will remember you.”

Sora nodded, keeping his eyes to the ground so that his messy hair covered his expression.

Then Naminé turned to Riku, and he felt such a desperate rush of warmth for her in his chest.

“Naminé,” he said, as she stepped forward. His hands found her waist, and without really thinking about it, he lifted her and spun her off of the floor. She smiled at him – the Princess in a fairy story – and threw her arms around his neck.

“You were so good to me,” she murmured. “Thank you. You were always my favourite, Riku.”

Sora gasped, putting a hand to his chest in mock-hurt. But his eyes were still red and damp.

Naminé shook her head, to show that she was teasing, and took both of their hands again. She gave them a final squeeze, and took a deep breath.

“Goodbye.”

The word washed over them both. It was such a little word and yet it had never felt so final to Riku. It stung his eyes like sea water, and he found that he couldn’t answer her.

They stepped with her to the water’s edge. And though the sea was freezing cold here, Riku and Sora followed her in. It stung like ice.

Naminé’s dress caught the water, and the white seemed to merge into the foam, so that it seemed as though all of the sea was her dress.

She turned, and smiled at them a final time. The watery sun was behind her, lighting up her hair and making her eyes seem even bluer than normal.

Then her hands slipped from theirs, even though their arms were still outstretched. She was still stepping backwards, and now the water caught her hair, swirling it into the water so that it looked like a wave.

Then Naminé was gone.

They stared out at the sea, as though she would resurface and laugh at them for their tears. Nothing happened – only a seagull landing on the pier above them and cawing loudly.

Sora’s hand found Riku’s.

“Memory,” he said. His voice was hoarse.

“What?”

Naminé is a memory,” he repeated, and turned those too-blue eyes – so much like hers – onto Riku. “She appears when people need memories. We have those.”

Riku understood what Sora meant. He leant forward and kissed him, because he still couldn’t find the words to speak.

But he had a feeling that he would be sailing into a storm again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I really love Alice and Sora friendship okay? It's so underused and I wish I could have done more with it.  
> We will be getting to Ventus in the next chapter - I promise.  
> But yeah, much like this authors note this chapter is kind of all over the place tonally - but - I thought we could use a little bit of fluff to go with the tricky parts.  
> Once again thank you everyone for so many lovely kind comments and for all of the support on this fic! I really hope you're enjoying the wrap up to this story and I'm so excited for next week <3 xx
> 
> (P.S: Lesbians weren't even like believed to be a thing until the late Victorian era because a woman??? Loving a woman??? Impossible!! And that's why the Prince is pretty chill about the whole thing.)


	27. The Duke

The Duke

England looked much the same as when Riku had left it. That was eerie, instead of comforting. Everything about him – everything about reality as he knew it – had changed – but England’s fields looked the same.

They parted with Kairi and Alice at the dock. It had been awkward. The air between Sora and Kairi still seemed full, and so full of things that they didn’t quite have the words to say.

“I – I’ll miss you,” Sora managed to say, and smiled slightly. Because he could always smile. “All over again.”

“I’m sorry.” Kairi reached out a pale hand, as if to take Sora’s dark one, but it stayed hovering in the chilly air. “Thank you for finding me.”

“And for saving us,” Alice added. She smiled at Sora, and dipped into a curtsey. “You’re the nicest pirate I’ve ever met.”

Riku thought of how Namine had hugged them – their complete lack of regard for manners and society in hugging a practically naked girl to say goodbye to her. Now there was a little girl in front of them doing her best to be an upstanding young woman when what she really needed was a hug and a piggyback.

He hadn’t missed society, he realised.

“Thank you, Alice.” Sora’s cheeks were pink, and Riku didn’t think it was from the wind. “It’s been a pleasure.”

He nodded to her, eyes darting to Riku as if asking what he should do. But Riku could only nod too. He didn’t know what to say to this girl.

“Sora, I –” There was something desperate in Kairi’s eyes, and her hand jolted forward again. It brushed Sora’s, and he opened his palm to her. She didn’t take it. “All the best. We’ll meet again, on the sea.”

Sora nodded. He blinked rapidly. “We will.”

Kairi nodded back. The pads of her fingers grazed Sora’s hand. Her eyes caught Riku’s, and her mouth flickered into a tiny smile. Riku could only nod at her as well. There was so much loaded between them, because of Sora, that opening it up now would lead to a mess. Polite society did not like messes.

The two of them started down the street, their skirts brushing against the cobblestones.

Riku wanted to take Sora’s hand, because his hair covering his eyes, and his shoulders were shaking. But the docks were busy. And though they had solved everything else, this was the one thing that would have to remain hidden.

So he kept his hands by his sides. And just put a hand on Sora’s shoulder, just for a moment, before he followed Aqua and Terra, heading in the opposite direction.

Sora followed. His hand grazed the back of Riku’s, at almost every step. And it sent electric through his arm. He’d never been so desperate to take Sora’s hand, but had never been so aware of everyone staring at them.

He could understand why Sora loved the sea. It was open and lonely and they could do what they liked. He never thought he would miss being on a boat.

They faced another long carriage ride. Once again, Aqua and Terra drove. It only made the emptiness of the seats opposite them all the more noticeable. Riku had room to sit comfortably, but his stomach felt twisted.

Sora leant against him. With his full weight.

“Do you think I will ever see her again?” he asked.

“We bumped into Aqua and Terra twice by accident,” Riku replied. “The world isn’t as big as it seems.”

Sora paused. His hand found Riku’s and that was the only thing about all of this that felt both familiar and safe. “I just got her back.”

Riku didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how to. But he leant his weight back against Sora’s.

And hoped that would be enough.

*

Sora was used to seeing blue.

At sea, there was only blue – the dark blue of the ocean and the lighter blue of the sky. Stretching on, uninterrupted forever. But where the sea was blue, England was green. They passed fields of green for hours on end. Light green fields broken up by darker green bushes, regimented into neat lines. Like soldiers, waiting for orders.

Occasionally, there were animals in the green, and that was what made it different from the sea. Sora saw sheep and cows and horses in the fields in herds. He’d never seen cows out in the open like that, or sheep. The most he’d ever seen was one tied in a back garden, to be kept for wool or milk.

He pointed them out to Riku, every time, who did not seem as fascinated as he was. But he’d smile, and kiss Sora’s cheek, and that was encouragement enough to do it again.

“Sea has dolphins,” Riku murmured to him. “And whales and all manner of more interesting creatures.”

Sora shook his head and laughed. “Dolphins and whales are completely ordinary, Master Riku.”

England seemed as endless as France, though Riku said that it was actually much smaller, and it seemed like land was so much more difficult to get across the sea. They had to muddle through tiny villages every so often, and follow twisting, winding roads.

Sora did not like roads. They were much too indirect.

And he was starting to feel restless. A carriage was even littler than a ship, and he felt trapped in the cabin. Worse, because at least in his cabin he had been able to take more than one step.

“How did you ever manage this?” he asked Riku, as he lay sprawled over one side of the seating. At least Aqua and Terra spent most of their time in the driver’s seat – though they still had Donald and Goofy in here with them. The whole thing jerked and bucked beneath him, and he found himself sorely missing the soft lull of the ocean.

“By sitting very still for fear of a box to the ears,” Riku replied. He stared out of the window, and the green outside made his eyes look all the more green over blue.

Sora scrambled up, knocking a sleeping Goofy’s head from his lap as he did. “You’re joking.”

“Only partly,” Riku murmured. He seemed distracted, ever since they’d set off from France. “If I was travelling with…then I would sit still and keep my mouth closed because I would certainly say something wrong. But if I was by myself – I suppose I would sleep, and be grateful that I was alone.”

“Would you rather be alone now?”

“Of course not, silly.” Riku leant forward then, and Sora kissed him because he was desperate to feel that spark of electric between them. It had never disappeared, and he was thankful for that.

One kiss turned into two, and Sora couldn’t find it in him to pull away.

The carriage jerked underneath him, and he slipped from the seat. Was caught around the waist by Riku and pulled gently round, onto the seat next to him. Upsetting Donald in the process, but he fluttered up to sit with Goofy, pecking at his ear not unkindly.

Even at sea, it had been safe to kiss someone without falling over.

It took another day, on top of the other three, of travelling before they reached Duke Abner’s estate. Sora knew because they passed huge stone pillars, topped with winged lions, and into more green. But this green was tightly managed – hedges in straight lines or curved into circles, each flower carefully pinched to make sure that it was facing outward. Red roses, pink hydrangeas – flowers that did not grow in Havanna. There was neat lawn after neat lawn and ponds that were built in tidy squares, statues in the middle of them, rising up like towers over a castle.

Everything was controlled – everything was for show. It was like a finding a coconut shell, only to turn it over and find that it was empty. Sora took an instant dislike.

“This is impressive,” Riku said, and at Sora’s raised eyebrow. “For an English estate, it’s impressive.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to yours, dove.”

Riku rolled his eyes at the tease in Sora’s voice, and pushed his shoulder, lightly. Sora laughed, but it sounded forced. Strained.

His stomach was knots. And the longer they rode through the endless garden, the more knotted it became. What if they were wrong, about the seal? What if their assumptions about why Sora had it were wrong? What if he was making the wrong decision?

Maybe he would find out the truth and he would regret it. Maybe wish he had never found it out in the first place.

There was no going back, once he knew.

They finally slowed, and Sora was tempted to stick his head into the nearest fountain to empty his stomach of the meagre meal he had eaten before they had taken off that morning.

Goofy stirred from his space on the seat, but grumbled and went back to bed. It seemed both duck and dog disliked the carriage as much as Sora. They’d had their fair share of adventures, and they were eager for a break.

The door opened. Letting in chilly air and watery sunlight. Revealing Terra stood there, with a sarcastic smirk on his face.

“Are the little Princes alright in there?” he asked.

Sora got a glimpse of the house – the mansion – the palace – behind Terra, and nodded tightly.

He let Riku clamber out first, and accepted his hand down the steps. Riku was steady – he always had been – and his hand was still warm, even if everything else here was cold.

The building in front of them was vast, spreading wings out to either side like a hawk about to take flight. It was all brown bricks – brown bricks that held a tinge of warmth, like orange – in them, and the roofing was darker. An array of long windows stared at them like wide open eyes, all surrounding a gaping door, painted bright red.

There were two pages – both with red caps covering their hair and similar faces – at the steps leading up to the red door. Looking surprised and bemused at the party.

“We sent a letter ahead of us,” Aqua told the two men. “We have some of the Duke’s property we wish to return, and we wish to make our own enquiries as well.”

The men looked at each other, then one disappeared into the house, leaving them stranded on the step. And they kept waiting, whilst Sora’s stomach tied itself into increasingly difficult knots.

It seemed like an age before the man returned, bowed stiffly and said, “this way.”

Terra and Aqua looked at Sora expectantly. They were here for him, after all. So he forced his legs to move forward. They felt awkward and stiff, as though they wouldn’t support his weight, and he suddenly wanted to take Riku’s arm.

But even if that wasn’t out of the question, given the polite society they were in, he couldn’t. He wasn’t a child. And he had told Riku he was ready to face this.

He was ready.

The inside of the house felt hollow – as though the ceilings were too high up and the walls stretched on too long. It wasn’t shiny in the way that Versailles was. The tiles were highly polished, spreading out in black and white so that Sora felt as though he was walking on a chess board. There was paintings on the walls, but still lives and stern portraits instead of Greek myths – the frames wooden instead of silver or gold.

And though there was a grand staircase in front of them – dark polished wood and a dark red carpet – they did not go up it. Instead, they were led to a room at the back of the house. A drawing room that looked over the rolling garden. There was a dark polished wood fireplace, dark polished wood chairs and table to match – the pads and runner the same dark red as the carpet on the stairs. Everything was high quality, that was obvious, but it also felt like a stage. As though even the flowers in the vases had been arranged just so – to be looked at but not enjoyed.

They were told to take a seat, and wait. More waiting.

Sora and Riku did, but Terra and Aqua took up a place either side the unlit fireplace, as though they were sentries. The seal sat in Sora’s coat pocket. It was five times heavier than it ever had been before.

Then the door opened.

And a servant came in first, holding the door for a man who was frowning deeply. This was the Duke, Sora decided – he could tell by the opulence of his clothes – the powdered wig – and the way that he held himself.

This was the man who may be his father.

Though he seemed much older than that. As he came into the room, he walked stiffly and there were deep lines around his eyes and mouth. Blue eyes, Sora realised and wondered if they were the same blue as his own. Other than that, he couldn’t see much resemblance – not in the pale skin, the slightly crooked, too large nose, or the thin lips.

“What is the meaning of this impromptu visit?” He spoke like Riku used to – rich and plummy and entitled. He stared at them all, as though they were spots of dirt in his otherwise tidy home. And they were, Sora supposed.

He opened his mouth and found that he didn’t have a word to say.

“My Lord.” Riku glanced at Sora, then stood, a hand over his chest. “We’ve travelled from Havana because we found something there that can only belong to you. Because of its nature, we thought it best to return it in person.”

“And what of your bodyguards?” The Duke still stood at the door, glowering at Aqua and Terra, who, Sora saw, were trying hard not to smile.

“They are privateers who gave us safe passage.” Riku spoke smoothly, persuasively. Sora could imagine him in a school uniform, convincing the class of anything he said. The image distracted him. Made him think of sports rivalries and study sessions. “And have their own reasons for wanting to know the outcome.”

The Duke was examining Riku closely. Those blue eyes scrutinised him, narrowing until he said, “I know you, don’t I?”

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

“Still. There was a big fuss over a boy with silver hair, just a month or two back…” The Duke stood a step towards the cabinet lining the wall by the door. He put a hand there to steady himself. “A boy from Harrow…expelled, I believe, and missing.”

Expelled. Riku hadn’t said it was official. He’d been defensive, when Sora had asked, and his cheeks had gone a brilliant pink. They hadn’t mentioned it in months, and it felt like a different person’s life.

Now, Riku calmly gave the man his name – added Lord to the beginning, and explained that by saying, “since my mother has been executed for high treason in France, this last Monday.”

The Duke coloured immediately – Sora watched his face turn from radish to beetroot. He stared at Riku, leaning harder on the cabinet, spluttering “well,” many times before finally declaring, “what a mess of scandals your family has created.”

Sora couldn’t stand it – couldn’t stand the disgust coming from the man – couldn’t stand Riku taking all of the heat from him. Before he knew it, he was across the room, and he was holding out the gold seal – when had he taken it from his pocket – to the Duke.

“This is what we came to return,” he said. “Apparently it bears your seal.”

Riku blinked at him. The Duke blinked at him. Then at the seal. Then back at Sora’s face. Closely, this time, and Sora found himself taking a half-step back.

The Duke slowly took the golden seal from Sora’s hand.

“Where did you get this?” he asked. The colour was fading from his face now, almost alarmingly, so that he suddenly looked very pale.

“I was found with it,” Sora replied. There had been a time when he had hated to admit that – that that was the only thing in the world he had. That was without a doubt his.

“In Havana?”

“Aye,” Sora said, and saw the Duke wince, but did not amend himself.

It was as though they had punched him. The Duke gestured to the chairs feebly, his breath shallow and lowered himself into one slowly. All the while, he twisted the seal between his fingers, and examined every feature Sora had.

Sora sat, on the edge of his seat and tapping his foot as quietly as he could. Riku, he noticed, was also stiff, watching the man like a guard dog.

“I used to have a plantation in Havana. Sugar cane,” the Duke said. He stared – from Sora, to the seal, and Sora let his disgust show on his face. “And oftentimes my son would accompany me on my visits. He liked the island, he said, loved that oranges grew from the trees…but there was something else he loved.”

It was close to the narrative that Sora had guessed. He had always guessed that the Duke would not have his tanned skin and seeing him now had only confirmed it. So, he braced himself for the rest of the narrative.

“He was always down at the dock,” the Duke continued. There was a blank expression on his face, as he told it. And Sora started, for this was not what he thought. “And I realised too late the reason why. Privateers.”

Pirates. Sora felt a strange warmth, like hands on his shoulders. _Pirates_.

“He was particularly fascinated with one. A woman, with skin like ebony, he said, and hair that curled perfectly on its own…and it seemed she was fascinated with him. They came to me one day, and admitted to me how deeply they cared for each other. Love, they said…” The Duke shook his head. “Of course, I could not allow it. Could not allow my youngest son to run away with a privateer. So I forbade him…I never thought that he had the nerve to sneak away.”

Sora saw Riku’s fist clench, out of the corner of his eye. The story was different, in so many ways, and yet so eerily similar.

The Duke was staring at the seal again. Then he placed it, down on the table. The blank numbness gave away, and suddenly he looked as though he had tasted something sour. His hand moved from the seal, quickly, as though it had grown burning hot.

“He returned, of course. A year or two later and begging for help because they had both gotten into a spot of trouble with the navy. Because they had been caught at their true business and the only reason that she hadn’t hung was because she was with child.”

Sora stared at the seal too, because he was not sure how to feel and he did not want to see how anyone else did. Completely numb and yet so – so full at the same time.

“Of course, I could not help her.” The Duke waved a hand, and Sora felt a sharp pain in his ribs. “And as soon as the babe was born, he took it with him. Left again. And the only way I knew he had reached Havana was because of a letter, written by the man in charge of my estate, that he had been arrested there.”

The room was spinning. Sora’s mother was a pirate. His father had turned to it. They had loved each other. He wasn’t the result of a desperate fling. He wasn’t the result of a slave abused by a master. His background had been love – the very love that he was so desperately in now.

“You are wondering why I believe you. That you were born with the seal,” the Duke said. Sora was thinking nothing of the sort, but he kept quiet. “And I will show you why I know that’s the truth.”

Sora glanced up, to see the man standing stiffly. He made his way to the door, and looked back expectantly. They were meant to follow.

And yet Sora’s legs wobbled as he stood, like stepping off from a ship and onto land. He forced himself to press forward, because he had come this far. And because Riku was at his side, and that made everything seem so much easier.

Aqua and Terra did not move. When he reached the door, and glanced back to see them still standing there, Aqua nodded, her lips curving upwards.

“This is your story, little lion,” she murmured.

Sora could only smile. His ship ran on happy faces. It still would, no matter what happened today.

They followed the Duke. Down long, dark corridors, and up a wide staircase into another one. There was a piano being played, somewhere close by, and the melody seemed much too jaunty for the hurricane that was raging inside him.

His hands were shaking. And the back of Riku’s brushed against his. Every step.

The walls were lined with portraits. All serious looking men, like the Duke. Some with fair haired children, all wearing white gowns, so that it was impossible to determine who grew up to be who.

But the Duke stopped at one half covered by the curtain of the window next to it. (Another sweeping view of the grounds, Sora realised.)

The man was – unremarkable. A man with pale skin, heavily freckled, and plain brown hair that was escaping its ribbon. Sora thought he knew the expression – the feeling of being uncomfortable in fancy clothes.

He had blue eyes. But so did a lot of people that Sora knew.

“The resemblance…unfortunately…does not lie with your father.” Even as he spoke, the Duke was drawing back the curtain to reveal the other person stood in the portrait. A woman that he had already described – dark skin, tightly curled hair that sprung like a cloud around her face. A crooked smile. She wore a skirt, but there was a slit up the side to make it clear that she wore breeches underneath. Breeches, big boots, and a sword at her side.

Riku took a deep breath in next to Sora. Not quite a gasp, but still full of awe.

Sora, if he was honest, had stared into a looking glass only a handful of times. He did not remember his own features to know if he resembled these people. There wasn’t a spark of recognition inside him – as orphans always ought to feel, when finding the identities of their parents.

He looked blankly to the Duke. Then to Riku, who seemed to realise the problem, and smiled slightly, though he hid it behind his hand. The way that he used to.

“A spitting image.,” Riku murmured, low to Sora’s ear. His hand hovered over Sora’s waist, and if they were in private, he would have leant back against Riku. “Apart from your eyes – they’re from your father. Your hair as well, I suppose.”

Riku had stared at Sora’s features attentively many times, so he was a good judge of these things.

“So, that means I’m…” Sora could not bring himself to say the word. It felt too official – too final.

“My grandson.” The Duke’s mouth twisted a little. “Illegitimate, of course.”

Sora wasn’t sure – he knew that pirate captains could officiate marriages. But he did not think the Duke would appreciate knowing that.

“Provided,” the Duke continued. “That you did not steal that seal.”

“I was found with it in Havanna,” Sora repeated, and he felt his fists clench at his sides.

“Ah…” The smile was almost genuine now. “Almost the same tone as the one he used to use.”

He did not like this. He did not like being told that he looked like people he did not know or being treated as a looking glass into the past. It had never been his intention to stay here, but now the thought was pushed out of his mind even less. He could imagine it – just being a way for this man to mourn the son he pushed out.

“Thank you,” Sora forced himself to say, because he did not want to seem like the rat that his grandfather might think he was. “We have learnt what we came here for.”

“Not quite.” Riku stepped forward then, and Sora felt cold without him behind him. “Do you know of a man named Ventus?”

*

Riku had expected Ventus to look like Sora.

Which he did, he supposed, but not as much as he had thought.

He had been the one playing the piano, in a grand room off from the portrait gallery. It faced away from the door, towards the corner of the room covered with large chaise lounges, as though there was a stage set up there, with the windows behind it.

Like everything in the house, everything was positioned for a show.

The Duke had rapped at the door and the piano music had stopped, suddenly, and the man looked up, startled. Not even really a man, Riku thought – he was only a few years older and Sora and himself.

He was short, like Sora, and he had the same discerningly blue eyes that everyone in the family seemed to own. His hair was just as unruly, but was a rich gold. One side flat, as though he had slept on it and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. If he tanned, as he probably had on the Wayfinder, then maybe there would be more of a resemblance.

“Ventus.” Sora blinked at him. More stunned by that than the portrait of his parents.

Ventus nodded, frowning slightly as he took them in. Then his face broke into a wide smile.

“Is that really – little Sora?” He came forward, and took Sora’s shoulders, pulling him forward into the light and laughing as he examined him.

There was the resemblance. It hit Riku like a punch in the stomach. It was in the sun that was inside of them both, when they smiled and when they laughed.

“You’ve grown so much!” Ventus said.

“Aye,” Sora said. “But you haven’t.”

Ventus laughed again, maybe at how dazed Sora looked. As though he had seen a ghost.

“I suppose not.” He had a strange kind of accent. One that occasionally slipped on a word, breaking the well-spoken tone into something – well, something that sounded more like Sora. “But then, you were so small when I last left, that I must have seemed taller than I really was. And now that you’ve gotten taller, you’ve caught me up.”

Sora tilted his head to the side, evaluating Ventus. He still seemed unsure – like a dog trying to remember an old owner.

“Whatever you say,” he said.

“Terra and Aqua are here too.” Riku stepped forward, because Sora seemed at a loss to say, and the Duke was watching these proceedings with a sour expression. “They’re downstairs.”

“They haven’t been looking for me all this time?” Ventus turned to him, his eyes sparkling in just the same way Sora’s did.

“They thought you were dead.” Sora’s voice was slightly hoarse, and he took a step back. He looked to Riku with a strange expression. Something like confusion and hurt and anger mixed together. Riku could understand. This boy had disappeared suddenly, and seemed much too joyful about that fact. Much too joyful that people had been looking for him. “We came – because – I had the same seal you did.”

The Duke explained the story tightly. He still glared at Riku. Even though Sora had distracted him, he suspected the Duke had remembered just why Riku was going to be expelled. He didn’t approve of his new grandson’s company. Or his clear occupation.

“That makes us cousins, then.” Ventus clapped Sora on the shoulder giving him a kind smile. The kind an older child might give a much younger one to make them feel included. “Welcome to the family.”

Sora didn’t move. He stood rigidly, still frowning slightly. “Why didn’t you write?”

Ventus’ smile slipped. He grew serious then, tugging Sora’s arm and leading him to the piano stool. Slipping onto it and shuffling over to make room. Sora sat, not taking his eyes from Ventus and brows knitted together.

“I did write, and smartly too.” The richer accent had dropped from Ventus voice. “I wrote several times that first year, but I had no reply.”

“Because I was not having another member of my family consort with _privateers_.” The Duke sniffed.

Ventus looked at him, his blue eyes sad. “I thought as much. My life is dictated with misplaced letters.”

“What do you mean?” Sora’s hands were shaking now, and Riku had to fight the desperate impulse to charge forward and take them in his own.

Ventus shook his head. He stood, and looked every part a Duke’s son.

“Grandfather,” he said. “I shall take tea with our visitors, privately. We have much to discuss and I have much to explain.” And as the Duke opened his mouth, frowning, Ventus continued, “I know that you do not approve, but it won’t be for long. This is the only thing of you that I truly ask.”

The Duke nodded, stiffly.

Then Ventus lead Sora from the room, and Riku followed the pair.

“You didn’t introduce your new friend,” Ventus said, casually to Sora.

“This is Riku.” Sora shifted their places, so that he walked in the middle. His fingers grazed Riku’s, and it warmed him to the core. “He’s my first mate.”

Ventus nodded at Riku, that smile returning, and he nodded back.

“I’ve heard much about you,” he said, feeling that he needed to be polite, surrounded by all of this wealth.

Ventus’ eyes glistened in the soft light of the hall. “And I think I’ve heard a lot about you. Grandfather has been keeping close watch on the case of the boy with silver hair.”

“I do believe you’re famous, dove.” Sora smiled up at him, and Riku felt his cheeks warm. He glanced at Ventus, all too aware of the endearment in Sora’s voice, but Ventus did not look bothered.

“I would have ran from boarding school too,” Ventus said. “If I’d ever been sent there. Especially if people were spreading those rumours.”

“They – they weren’t rumours.” Riku wasn’t sure why he felt the need to admit that.

Ventus raised his eyebrows and the friendly smile slipped into a worried frown. “I think they may have exaggerated a few things in your absence.”

Maybe Riku should have been bothered by that news. He should have been bothered by the way the Duke had glared at him. But after everything he’d been through – after guns and blood and love that felt as though it would burst from him.

He just couldn’t find it in him to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Both baby boys and girls wore white gowns until they were like four but capitalism started gendering clothes so that people couldn't re-use them anymore.  
> I apparently thought that was important enough to note to myself at the beginning of this chapter.  
> So yeah - after more than 100,000 words we finally found out Sora's backstory and met Ven! I hope it was worth the wait - I'm pretty happy with how it came out. And next chapter will explain Ven a little bit more.  
> And next chapter is last chapter.  
> This fic has been such a journey but wrapping it up feels so cathartic. Whilst I'm sad to see it end this is also my favourite part, in a way?   
> I'll save being sappy for next week.  
> In the meantime - thank you all so so much for all of the support on this fic! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter!!
> 
> (I also just finished The World Ends With You and I am so shook - it's on sale in nintendo e-shop until the 17th if you're like me and didn't have the co-ordination for the ds game.)


	28. The End

The End

Terra and Aqua cried out when they saw Ventus.

Aqua crossed the distance between them in two strides, pulling Ventus into a tight hug and hurrying her face in his hair. It wasn’t a second later, before Terra joined her. The three of them stood, tightly bound together and half-laughing, half-sobbing as they held each other.

Riku wondered if Ventus had believed them. Or if he hadn’t quite released how much he had missed them, given his earlier casual tone.

“Oh, Ven.” Aqua pulled away from him, cupping his face in her hands and looking at him with shining eyes. “You’ve grown.”

“One of us had to.” Ventus’ voice was thick as he replied. He elbowed Terra, lightly. “And this one’s grown enough for us all.”

Terra ruffled Ventus’ hair in response, smiling wider than Riku had ever seen him.

“Have you been alright?” Aqua asked. Her hands went from his face, to his hands, holding them tightly. “Have you been happy here, Ven?”

“Aye – yes,” Ventus said. He looked between the two of them, grinning. “Very happy. I promise.”

“You never came back,” Terra said, and that was when Riku noticed the edges of his smile were firm.

“I – didn’t think I would ever find you again,” Ventus said. “And I haven’t been to Bristol at all, at any rate.”

“Listen to him.” Aqua wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand. “Talking like a gentleman.”

Ventus flushed, then. He bit his lip and stepped away. As though he had realised that this wasn’t his place.

“I did write, I promise,” he said. “But, well, I’m sure you’ve figured out that my grandfather doesn’t approve...” He looked up and suddenly looked younger. There was a pleading look in his eyes, and a hesitance in his breath. “I’ll explain it all – please sit.”

Sora and Riku were already placed at the fire. Sora had squeezed himself onto the armchair Riku had sat on – starting on the arm, and then sliding down, so that his legs tangled with Riku’s, and his hair tickled his face.

Terra and Aqua sat too, staring at Ventus as though he would disappear if they looked away from him. As if he wasn’t absolutely there to begin with.

Ventus talked, and Riku rubbed his thumb in circles on Sora’s lower back, so that he sighed and leant against him. The mix-up seemed so simple – Ventus’ father had taken him to the docks to see the ships one day, sending a letter to the family they had lodging down there to meet them so they could stay at their lodgings for the night. For whatever reason – Ventus didn’t know – the letter never arrived.

His father was called on urgent business in the city, and had left Ventus at the dock to wait for the family that would never arrive. When he had met the family, late that evening, the truth had been uncovered.

But Ventus hadn’t been at the dock.

“Some sailors saw me, and they took me into a pub,” Ventus said. He spoke with his hands as much as his voice. “They were trying to do a kindness – because it was such a cold night and I shouldn’t be out there alone…but they were too late. I was always a sickly child, and waiting for so long…I caught a fever. They didn’t want to leave me alone, so they took me aboard their ship. My father searched for me…but he didn’t check the boats. He was convinced that I was on the streets, or someone had kidnapped me, which I suppose they had, but only to keep me safe.”

“You never told us this before,” Terra said, slowly.

Ventus shook his head. “I didn’t know. When I got sick, I…I couldn’t remember anything of where I had come – the sailors only knew my first name, and I couldn’t even remember that. So, they took me in, and – well, you know most of the rest.”

“I don’t,” Sora said.

Aqua smiled. “We attacked Ven’s ship. The whole crew surrendered almost immediately, but not him.”

“A natural with a sword,” Terra said. “We were the one’s who convinced him to go on account.”

Ventus smiled. “Terra disarmed me, and they took me aboard because they thought I would make a good deckhand. And I ended up taking a liking to pirating. Better than being a cook’s assistant, anyhow.”

“What happened in Bristol?” Terra asked. He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “When we lost you?”

Ventus took a breath. He leant forward too, and suddenly Riku felt as though they shouldn’t be involved in this; that this was a private conversation. But Sora remained firmly where he was sat, one hand on Riku’s thigh. If they moved now, it would bring more attention to them.

“It was coincidence,” Ventus said, slowly. “Pure coincidence. I went to the tavern, you know that much-” Here, Riku wondered if that was the same tavern that he had met Sora in, all that time ago. “A man bumped into me – almost knocked me off of my feet, and my seal came out of my pocket. It was the only thing I had on me when the sailors took me in, so I took off after it, into the street. A man had already picked it up. And when I explained the story, and why I needed it back – he recognised it. The man happened to know who’s seal it was – Duke Abner’s, and that he had lost a grandchild ten years prior...”

Ventus trailed off. He pushed his hair away from his face, agitatedly, his eyes on the plush carpet. The sunlight was harsh on his skin, but it brought out his eyes more. They were desperate, and pleading, as he looked up at Terra and Aqua.

“I’m sorry, but I had to go with him.” His voice was cracking. “I loved you – I loved being a pirate, but all of those years – no one knew who I was. And I had to know – I had to find out the truth, because it never felt as though I belonged. Not like you did. I needed to know who I really was, and where I really belonged. I wish it meant that I didn’t have to leave you.”

There was silence. No, not quite silence – Riku could hear a flute from one of the upper floors. He could hear the birds outside – how long had it been since he heard that? They seemed loud now – too loud.

Aqua stood, on shaking legs, and stepped over to Ventus. She was smiling, but there was sadness in her eyes. This was it, Riku realised. Their goodbye – the definite answer to what had happened to Ventus all these years. And even though it was happy, it was final.

“We’re just glad that you’re happy,” Aqua said. She smoothed the hair away from his forehead, cupping his face as though she was a mother, and Ventus leant into her touch.

“And safe.” Terra’s voice was gruff. He started forward too, his eyes clouded, and took Ventus’ hand.

It was a reunion. And one that would end in a goodbye. That didn’t seem far – it seemed fleeting and tragic, like something out of a play.

Sora’s hand moved from Riku. He slipped off of the chair, slowly and laced his fingers with Riku’s. The three didn’t notice them.

So they left the room.

*

“Why did you get expelled?” Sora had to ask it, again, now that they were perched on a window ledge, waiting for Aqua and Terra to re-join them. They would come when they were ready.

Riku shuffled, slightly. He leant his cheek against the window, looking out at the grounds, instead of at Sora.

“I was seeing one of the boys in the year below,” he spoke quietly – as quietly as Ventus had, as though he was confessing in church. “It wasn’t – it was nothing like _this_ at all. It was…whenever we felt we needed…another player…and it was all very secret – in the music room cupboard and…places like that. But it was only a matter of time before someone found out. I ran away before they could.”

“That’s not the story he told.” There was a sharp voice in the corridor.

Sora stood, clenching his fists as though he was preparing for a fight. It would be good, to have one – it would give him somewhere to channel the emotions burning in his chest. He was angry, yes, but he also found he was jealous. Jealous of the secrets trysts of schoolboy life, even though it had given Riku nothing but trouble.

There was a boy, standing in the corridor, his arms crossed as he scowled at Riku. And Sora had to blink – this boy had the same blonde hair, same blue eyes as Ventus. Looked almost his double – but he was a year or two younger.

“He said that you seduced him – bullied him into becoming a sodomite,” the boy said.

Riku frowned – not as though he was angry, but as though he was confused.

“What would you know?” Sora snapped. “You don’t know him!”

“I do,” Riku said. His eyes widened, as he looked at the boy, and he stood from the windowsill. He was much taller than both of them. “I do. Roxas. You were below me.”

The boy, Roxas, nodded.

“I didn’t have much to do with him,” Riku told Sora. He shrugged, almost apologetically. “I didn’t know Abner was his last name.”

Roxas’ fists were clenched at his sides, Sora realised. He was glaring at Riku, with his jaw clenched. Riku, on the other hand, seemed perfectly relaxed.

“But that’s not why you’re angry at me,” he said, his lips quirking slightly. “Because I’ve heard plenty of rumours about you too.”

Roxas’ cheeks flushed – they turned bright red in the space of a moment. Sora could only watch the exchange, bewildered.

“No, that’s not why I’m angry,” Roxas replied. “I’m angry because no matter what you did – no matter what kind of trouble you got into – we’re all told to be more like you. To play better at squash, study French harder – get your perfect grades and have your perfect manners even when you’re dragging your name through the mud!”

Riku blinked. He seemed dazed for a moment, and Sora could understand why. Compared to girls made from memory and cults and hangings, the idea of regular school problems seemed absurd.

Then Riku smiled, and looked very much as though he was trying to stop himself from laughing.

“My mother was already working hard on dragging our name through the mud,” he said. “And that’s all it is. A name. And land from people who didn’t work hard for it.”

Roxas stayed angry.

“A name is all I have,” he said. And now he sounded young – much younger than he was. “I’m the youngest, besides Xion – it’s too late for me to make a name of myself in the army or the navy – I’m not accomplished – I can’t even win against you in some – stupid sport!”

Sora didn’t understand. Names and accomplishments hadn’t ever meant a lot to him. Possessions – having things to eat and drink and wear – had been the priority. Keeping his head down so that he _didn’t_ gain a name was more important than glory and triumph.

And apparently that made him a good Captain.

Riku, however, blinked. And seemed to feel some kind of sympathy, because his eyes softened, and he put a hand on Roxas’ shoulder that wasn’t immediately shrugged off.

“You’ll be accomplished, now,” he said. “Since I won’t be returning to Harrow.”

Sora started. “You won’t?”

Riku laughed, as he looked at him. “My dearest, I’m expelled, remember?”

Which just made the whole corridor feel even warmer. Either because Sora had been foolish, or Riku was being so open – was calling him _dearest_ – when a few months ago he could hardly hold Sora’s eye.

“You can come with us, if you like,” Riku continued to Roxas.

It was his turn to blink in bewilderment, finally shrugging of Riku’s hand. He stared at Sora. “You mean you’re not staying?”

Sora shrugged. “Why should I?”

“Grandfather expects you to. Since you made your way back here, it’s you’re rightful place, even considering your…”

Skin colour, Sora thought. Or birth circumstance. The fact that his father had been an apparent disgrace to whatever a name meant.

“I’d rather be on the sea. It’s in my blood.” And now, he knew that with surety. The sea was in him – so was piracy. “And I could never be parted from my Hamlet – my Desdemona – my –“

“Sora.” Riku’s voice was quiet. Finally, he looked flustered.

Roxas was examining the two of them, arms folded over his chest as though he was trying to guard himself. It wasn’t the same hatred he had moment before. In fact, Sora thought he saw understanding there. Saw recognition in Roxas’ eyes, rather than condemnation.

“Well then,” Roxas said. “Good luck.”

Riku nodded. “And you.”

Sora felt as though he should say something too – something that a polite boy with good manners would say.

“It was nice to…meet everyone.”

Roxas smiled then – properly smiled for the first time. It lit up his face, just like when Ventus smiled.

“I know it’s not pleasant to meet the Duke,” he said. “But we could do a lot worse.”

“I know.” Sora thought of Barbossa. Or the several other captains who had been less than thrilled to have him on board. The Duke seemed harsh, but fair. And that was a rare thing.

They parted ways, after another awkward nod – there was so much awkward nodding in polite society.

Sora couldn’t help it. As they turned down the corridor, and were safely out of earshot, he stood on his tiptoes to whisper in Riku’s ear.

“What rumours?”

“Much the same rumours about me,” Riku replied. He glanced back too, and seemed sorry. “But I doubt his tutor will be snitching on him anytime soon.”

It clicked into place then. The rivalry Roxas must have felt. The fear at having Riku come here. The knowledge that it didn’t matter about your private life, as long as your were clever and good at sports.

Sora smiled.

It seemed as though rebellion ran in the family.

*

Duke Abner seemed disappointed at Sora’s decision. Or angry. Whichever way, there had been a curl of his lip and the question, “so you got what you wanted from me.”

“I needed the truth,” Sora replied, and had felt strangely calm. “I have no wish for your name or fortune. And I don’t want to be trapped in a cage – not even one as fine as this.”

That had seemed to have stunned the Duke into silence. He had stared at Sora as though he had smacked him, and he wondered – did he look like his mother or father as he had said that? Had he sounded like them?

He hoped he had. He hadn’t expected to feel this sense of pride at learning the truth.

It was only when they had climbed back into their carriage – on the way back to the sea – to ships – for a good, long time – that Riku elbowed Sora. He was smirking, and his eyes were glittering like the water that Sora so sorely missed.

“Trapped in a cage as fine as this,” Riku repeated. “Look who’s become a poet.”

“You and your Harrow education have rubbed off on me.” Sora threw up his hands, rolling his eyes as though in despair.

Riku laughed. His arm went around Sora’s shoulders, pulling him sideways so that Riku could kiss his temple.

“I’m glad it stuck with one of us,” he murmured, into Sora’s hair.

Sora grinned. He leant against Riku and it felt so natural – they felt so natural, that he couldn’t imagine it being like when they met. Couldn’t imagine not touching Riku – not knowing if he felt the same way. He’d been a fool, he realised, to ever hesitate.

“Quote something,” he said – because now that he was thinking of what it had been like when he had first met Riku. Now he was thinking of hearing Shakespeare fall from his lips for the first time and feeling absolutely spellbound. Pulled into the spell that was Riku’s voice and face and –

“No,” Riku said.

Sora pulled away. So that Riku could see his scowl – or pout – he couldn’t tell.

Riku chuckled. Then tucked a stray strand of silver behind his ear. It fell back across his face almost instantly – like the tail of a shooting star.

“You called me your Hamlet – your Desdemona – but those plays are a tragedy, Sora.”

“I know.”

Riku’s eyes – blue green eyes – flickered to him. “Our story did not end in tragedy. It will not. So I won’t quote one.”

“Shakespeare wrote more than tragedy.”

“Ah, but the comedies are not as romantic.”

“And is this - romantic?” Sora leant closer. Put a hand on Riku’s thigh because he was close enough to hear that it made the breath in Riku’s lungs hitch. “A great romantic tale, Master Riku?”

“My captain.” Riku’s fingers brushed down Sora’s face, as lightly as a butterfly, before landing on his cheek. “It most certainly is.”

Sora kissed him, then. A desperate kind of kiss because he had to make Riku understand just how deeply he felt – just how deeply he cared. He had to make sure that Riku could feel the fluttering of Sora’s heart – the ache in his ribs – the light feeling in his head.

And maybe he did. Or maybe that was what he was trying to tell Sora, because his lips moved just as feverishly.

Romance wasn’t what Sora had set out from Havana for. He’d set out for adventure and mystery. He’d set out to get Kairi back, but that wasn’t out of a sense of romance – it was the right thing to do. It was to get his best friend back. But he’d fallen in love instead.

And that was better than adventure. It was the thing that he didn’t know he was looking for.

The thing worth running to.

*

Riku stood on the dock at Bristol and stared out at the ships. The wind was just as sharp as last time – the sky just as grey. And yet, it felt as though he had been a different person entirely, when he had followed the pirate he met at a bar to a small, red boat.

He’d never imagined anything that would come after it.

Never imagined that he would be excited to get back onto a ship with a dog and a duck – and the pirate that he’d fallen head over heels for.

Sora stood at his side.

“A few months,” he said. “And then we’ll have the Highwind back.”

“I miss it.” Riku hadn’t realised that until he said it. But it was true. He missed the deck – he missed their hammocks and their cabin. Missed not having to sneak to the cargo hold if he wanted to spend too much time kissing Sora.

“Aye – everyone falls in love with my ship, sooner or later.” Sora grinned – and that was the same too. That crooked smile that had made Riku stay with him in the first place.

Riku shook his head – trying to wipe his own smile from his face. The King was under his collar, was there so often now that Riku felt strange without the lump of fur nestled into his neck. He couldn’t imagine why the tiny paws and twitching nose ever bothered him.

Donald and Goofy were on the docks too – just behind them. And just like before, Goofy was snuffling at Donald’s tail feathers, receiving a quack and a peck for his troubles.

“I sent a letter onto my mother’s estate.” Riku brought the tone back into something sombre and serious. Whenever he mentioned her now, Sora’s eyes would soften. He would watch Riku carefully, as though he was about to crack into pieces. “My estate. I said that I wouldn’t return – that they could sell the land, if they wanted. Make a school, or an orphanage or just let whatever greedy person take it over…as long as they kept the caretaker’s cottage free.”

Sora was silent. He stood close enough that his shoulder just brushed Riku’s as they stood there.

“I thought – if we ever needed somewhere to go – ever wanted to spend some time on land…it would do.” He didn’t look at Sora. “You’d like it. My mother had a knack for roses.”

“We’ll see it, one day,” Sora murmured. “But we have a job to do first.”

“A job?”

Sora smiled. He put a hand on Riku’s shoulder – gently turned him to face him. His cheeks were pink in the sharp wind. And there was that sun in Sora. He was _glowing_ today.

“I’m in need of a crew, master Riku,” he said. “We’re going to sail into a storm.”

Riku’s heart fluttered. He played along.

“Why are you sailing into a storm, Captain?”

“Because there’s treasure. Blessed treasure – treasure that can do miracles.”

“You think it will work?” Riku was serious now.

“Namine is made from memories – when someone needs to find someone. We have memories of her. Why shouldn’t it work?”

“You haven’t changed.” He knew that he shouldn’t, but Riku leant forward to adjust Sora’s hat. To see it set his hair askew. “You’re still…reckless, and risk-tasking and…”

“And you love me.” Sora was on his tiptoes, grinning up at Riku.

And he could only say, “so much.”

Sora’s fingertips were on Riku’s chest. They had gotten new clothes – practical sailing clothes that felt more comfortable than that Harrow uniform. The one that was probably lying at the bottom of the river, still.

“You haven’t changed either,” Sora murmured. “Your schoolboy accent’s disappeared, but you’re still just as – practical and easy-to-fluster, and-“

“And you’ve fallen for me anyway.”

Sora stared at him with those too-blue eyes. As though he was only seeing him for the first time. “So far.”

Riku knew he had changed. Knew that he had grown and changed and shrugged off the ghosts plaguing him. Knew that he was not the same boy Sora had met in the tavern.

And Sora had changed too. He had become more confident – more sure of himself as a Captain. He had faced his past too.

But some things didn’t change. And those things were exactly what had made Riku fall for the boy in the first place.

He took Sora’s hand and entwined his fingers into it. He pressed their bodies side by side to shield it from view of the people walking by. Even though Goofy found it, and snuffled into it with a large, wet nose.

Donald began to attack Sora’s bootlaces, and he laughed. That bright, dazzling laugh that lit up the grey of Bristol.

Riku had ran from here. Ran from his school, his mother and his country. He hadn’t known what he had been running to.

But it had been worth it.

Every step along the way had been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): I know that being jealous that someone is better at a sport than you are isn't really comparable to the end of 358/2 days but you can see why that would be a little weird to do. Having Roxas (and Xion) as Sora and Ven's siblings was something I planned but it was also so near the end that it was more of a fun easter egg.   
> Am I tempted to do an AkuRoku spin-off at Harrow? Yes. Do I physically have the time? No. Is that going to stop me? Maybe.  
> (I know that it's a controversial ship in the fandom so I will say this au would have like a two year age gap, at most. I've also been playing Days recently because I never really did as a kid and thinking of Axel as 15+ is hilarious to me. Actual disaster 17 year old. I know that he's twice the height Roxas but both him and Sora seem...oddly short. Like I'm sure I stood next to Jack Sparrow on Kh3 and Sora was at elbow height. Jack Sparrow's tall I guess but not /that/ tall, right?)  
> Anyway - what's more important to say is that Ventus' backstory was largely an ode to the use of convenience as a plot device in - honestly the late 1700s all the way through to the end of the 1800s. From Austen to Bronte to Dickens to Gaskell like - people just bump into each other for convenience all the time, or have 1 misunderstanding that most of the novel hinges on. So I wanted to honour that.  
> And that's the end of this fic. It is the longest fanfic (maybe the longest thing ever) that I've written. It's really been a journey and I've loved writing it. It's been incredible to have all of your support for so long on this and that so many of you comment each week?? Amazing!! It's been truly wonderful. So much has changed over posting it and the fact that it was a constant really helped me cope. (I lost a two month placement in Disney World Florida and my actual job so whilst things haven't been the worst I'm officially an unemployed graduate living with my parents which is the last thing I wanted.)  
> I really can't thank you all enough for reading this monster every week. Please do drop a comment below to let me know you made it to the end and any final thoughts/feelings you have! Every comment has meant the absolute world and I'll miss seeing your usernames pop up in my emails. > a strong contender.)
> 
> (P.P.S - I finished The World Ends With You like a week and a half ago and wrote so much post-game Neku and Joshua dialogue. That'll either get posted on my Thursday update slot or it'll be a Fruits Basket Fake Dating AU. Stick around if either of those sound fun.)


	29. Update

(A/N): Hello!

Just a tiny update because I'm not sure of how A03 notifies about series/adding to, that I did go and write an AkuRoku spin off to this fic - https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498703/chapters/72468828 

It's quite a bit different, but I'm really excited to write and share it, so I thought I'd add a notice here to say that it was up. :)

(I know the age difference is controversial in this fandom - they're two school years apart in the fic, and it is going to be discussed within it a little as well.)

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): When researching this fic I found out that pirate ships just had a plank with a hole in for a toilet and I have to be burdened with that knowledge so does everyone else. (My notes for this literally say 'That horrifying moment when you find out that pirate toilets were just like wizard toilets, apparently.')  
> WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT TO SAY: is that I started this a few months ago and had the first half of this chapter sat around for a while. I've somehow clocked in 4,000 words a day for a week straight on this, so this feels...a little rough? It's more like, Sora and Riku really come into their own in terms of character in the next chapter. Bare with this and bare with me, please.  
> I also use 'pirateglossary.com' for slang and ship parts in this fic, so if you're ever confused head on over there. I didn't want to put loads of pirate slang in, but I couldn't resist a little bit.  
> But I have so many ideas to weave into this fic and I'm so so excited to share it and keep writing it and I hope you're all interested in reading more of it as well! It's very much growing on me and I cannot wait to see if other people are as enthusiastic for the niche of high-romance pirates of the caribbean/the 1999 mummy!  
> Thank you so so much for reading and I'll be updating (hopefully) weekly! <3 xx
> 
> (I'm also on tumblr as turnupsdrawssometimes, and on instagram/twitter @turntups Talk to me!)


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